


Shatter

by MelyndaR



Series: Broken Together [1]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-08-12 02:07:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 27,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7916260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelyndaR/pseuds/MelyndaR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes Daniel metaphorically stabbing Peggy in the back for Edwin and Ana to realize how strong their feelings for Miss Carter are - but after they reach that point, their world may never be the same again... as long as they can show Peggy how perfect the three of them would be together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Ana stared up at the ceiling, smiling and thoughtful even as she caught her breath. “Darling?”

Lying beside her, Edwin languidly turned his head, sounding equally out of breath as he remarked, “You should not sound so thoughtful after what we just did.”

Ana giggled, rolling over to lie on top of him and kiss his bare chest, “Sorry, I can’t help it.”

“I can’t _move_ yet; how can you already be _thinking?!”_

Her smile slipped a little as she folded her arms across his chest, mere inches between their faces as she replied, “I was thinking about Miss Carter.”

Edwin frowned. “What about her?” His eyebrows rose as he added, more lightly than the question itself might’ve justified, “And _why_ were you thinking about her whilst in _our_ marriage bed, Mrs. Jarvis?” Ana swallowed, inexplicable guilt slashing through her chest – and likely her eyes, judging by the way her husband suddenly tensed a little beneath her. “Ana, what is it?” he asked gently, one hand coming up to run slowly down her spine.

“Yesterday,” she replied simply, knowing that the topic would still be one that would raise Edwin’s ire.

As she had predicted, his eyes hardened a bit, and he took a deep breath, releasing it slowly on a sigh. “Ah, yes, _yesterday_.”

“Did you ever convince her to tell you exactly what happened?”

His expression tightened even further as he answered. “When she allowed me to drive her home from the theatrical agency today, she…” he paused, considering the phrase he was about to use – _she nearly broke down._ “…I believe she told me the full story.”

 “Which is?” Ana prompted a little impatiently.

“Yesterday afternoon, she invited Chief Sousa out for lunch because she had some news she wanted to tell him – the news that we already knew.”

“She’s moving here to LA to be with him, yes. I know that part, Edwin.”

Edwin smiled sadly up at her, silently urging her to be a little patient – to let him tell what was most likely a sad story at his own pace, if you would please. “But during the same luncheon wherein she handed him her transfer file… he broke off their… can one even call it a relationship?”

“She certainly did,” Ana remarked. “What else might you call it?”

Again Edwin’s expression flickered with protectiveness for Miss Carter, but there was a flash of distaste there too as he suggested, “A one-night stand. Really, Ana, as much as I hate to admit it, she did move quickly to transfer here.”

“Are you saying this was her fault?” she asked in surprise.

“Not at all. I’m saying that either there was a miscommunication between the two of them, or she was misled entirely.” Tersely, he declared, “I’m rather inclined to believe it’s the latter.”

“Why?”

“I was getting to that, actually. Because as she handed him that file, he, in turn, announced that not only had their… _encounter_ been a mistake, but that he had reinstated his engagement to his fiancée.”

“The nurse?” Ana asked in confusion.

“The very one and the same,” he confirmed. “And from what I’ve heard and seen of her, she’s hardly a flighty girl; if he won her back, he’s been trying to do so the entire time, regardless of whether or not he was supposedly seeing Miss Carter.”

Ana’s eyes widened as she did her best to understand. “He’s been playing them – _both_ – this entire time?!”

“Well, it’s hardly been a _long_ time,” he pointed out. “There was only a week between his dalliance with Miss Carter and the luncheon in question. But… yes. That does seem to be the state of affairs.”

It was not rare for Ana to feel _irritated,_ but it was much less frequent that she encountered something that she felt justified actual _rage_. Now was one of those times. Her small fists curled, pounding none too lightly as she seethed, “That _wicked_ man-!”

Beneath her, Edwin yelped, and large hands caught her own as he reminded, “That is _my_ chest you’re abusing, and I’ve done nothing amiss, darling.”

She gave him a tight, thin-lipped smile as an apology, before remarking, “It’s no wonder Miss Carter’s kept herself holed up in her room every spare second she can. Poor dear, what’s she going to do?”

Edwin shrugged helplessly. “From what she told me, there’s nothing she can do for the time being – her transfer is finalized; she’s stuck here.”

“Working with that wretched man?” she asked incredulously.

“Unfortunately.” Ana thought for in silence for a moment, came up with nothing but the same helplessness that Edwin seemed to have resigned himself to, and sighed deeply. Edwin eyed her, his gaze cautious and loving all at once as he pointed out, “You never told me _why_ you were thinking of her just now.”

Ana shrugged, offering, “It seems strange, almost wrong somehow that we can be here making love, while just down the hall there’s a woman whose heart is most likely breaking from loneliness and betrayal and goodness knows what else.”

“We were at least reasonably quiet about it.”

“That’s not what I _mean_ ,” Ana complained, lightly slapping his chest in rebuke.

He grabbed her hand again, intertwining their fingers as he asked, “Then what do you mean?”

Looking towards their bedroom door, Ana got to her feet as she replied decidedly, “I’m going to go make sure she’s all right.”

Edwin kept her hand firmly in his, stopping her progress as she moved to gather her clothes. When she looked back to him, his eyes were filled with a gentle understanding – of course they both wanted to fix this for Miss Carter – even as he said softly, “She’s not all right, darling, and I sincerely doubt she’d appreciate being seen that way. It’s getting late-“ It was over an hour past nine. “You would do best to simply stay in bed, darling.”

Ana stared at him in silence, blinked once, and gently extricated her hand from his. He stifled a sigh, watching as she tugged on her robe and padded out of the room and down the hall, decidedly ignoring his advice. Tossing away the covers after a moment of thought, he mumbled no complaint in particular as he shrugged on his own robe and left the bedroom as well. Stepping out into the hallway, he fell silent as he walked to the doorway of the guest bedroom, only to hear the low murmur of Ana’s and Miss Carter’s voices.

Unless he wanted to be _seen_ , he would not be able to _see_ the two women, so he stayed where he was and listened. The exact words, he couldn’t catch, but their tones were easy enough. Ana – gentle, caring, concerned. Miss Carter – too bright, dismissive, and – unless he missed his mark – most likely lying through her teeth.

Within the space of a minute, he heard Ana’s footsteps as she walked back out of Miss Carter’s room, looking downcast, but unsurprised that he’d followed her. With eyes alone, he asked after Miss Carter’s state, and Ana simply shook her head. Wrapping an arm around her slim shoulders, he guided her back to their own room.

Once they were alone again, Ana shed her robe and put it away as she reported, “I asked her if she was all right; she said yes. I asked her if she would like me to sit with her for a while, or if she would like to talk; she said no. Never mind the fact that her pillow is damp with tears, she’s _perfectly fine_.”

“Ana…” he started to attempt to coax her back to bed, or to at least sooth her somehow – but she was suddenly pulling her nightgown up over her head. “Mrs. Jarvis?”

“I’m sweaty thanks to you,” she declared by way of an answer to his question. “I want a shower before I return to bed.”

She had a point, he noted, divesting himself of his own robe as he asked her with a small smile, “Do you mind if I join you?”

 His smile might’ve been small, but as his wife turned back to him, offering her hand to lead him into the adjoining bathroom – one of the perks of living in Howard Stark’s mansion – her smile was absolutely _sad_.

Stepping into the shower together, she began to run a washcloth over his chest while he washed her hair. Silence descended for another moment before she remarked, “You’re still tense.”

“And you’re upset.” Because in his mind, his relaxation and her happiness went very much hand in hand – why should he have one if she didn’t have the other?

“Concerned,” she corrected with that same sad smile.

“Always wanting to save the world,” he murmured tenderly, leaning down to kiss her forehead. She tasted of soap and sweat and skin…

… And something in his remark had forced a dry chuckle from her throat. “I think we both have that fault, Mr. Jarvis,” she pointed out, eyes still sad even if her lips no longer professed such an emotion. He wasn’t fooled by her smile as she said, “Besides, I don’t want to save the world… just Miss Carter.”

“And how do you propose we do that?” he asked softly, wondering if she might actually have an idea. He may have been good at caring for people, but in his experience, it was Ana who had the power to absolutely _heal_ them.

“How indeed,” she sighed, running a hand down the length of his arm. So she had no immediate ideas either.

He caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles before he arched his eyebrows and suggested, only barely teasing, “I could hit Chief Sousa with one of Mr. Stark’s vehicles.”

Ana’s gaze turned very perceptive within a split second, as if she’d heard something in his remark that he hadn’t, as she asked, almost out of the blue, “I heard a rumor that you did exactly that to Miss Frost.”

He stiffened immediately at the name of that _vile_ woman, but nodded his confession, muttering the dissatisfied words, “Lot of good that it did, though.” He searched her gaze curiously, asking, “Why?”

She was staring at him in a way that made him absolutely _nervous_. It looked like she’d gotten an idea, perhaps, but he was nearly afraid to ask what it was, especially when she smiled – just a little, as if to herself, like he wasn’t standing right in front of her – and said dismissively, “No reason, darling.” 


	2. Chapter 2

Part of the problem, Peggy had decided while she was lying there in bed, was that Daniel’s explanation as to why she’d been a mistake had made  _sense_ in a lot of ways. Earlier today, when Mr. Jarvis had carefully inquired after the whole matter, she had been  _perfectly happy_ to villainize Daniel Sousa as much as she could. So she’d concentrated on telling him about Violet and the resurrected engagement – which was a  _huge_ part of it… but it wasn’t the  _only_ explanation Daniel – Chief Sousa – had offered up.

No, he’d also put forth perfectly reasonable excuses concerning their jobs, and insubordination, and compromised interests, and their shared unwillingness to compromise on  _any_ of those things.

And what hurt the most was that the logical side of her mind knew it  _made sense._

One of the few times in her life she’d ever decided to  _really_ love, and trust herself to, a man – the first time  _ever_ she’d made such a drastic change for one – and he had made her feel like a half-witted child for it.

She was shaken, yes, but she was also _stuck_ – stuck in what was supposed to a permanent positon at the LA SSR unless she’d wanted to quit the entire agency on the spot. That wasn’t something she was willing to do – she’d worked too hard and wasn’t _about_ to throw it away over a man – so here she was until further notice, though Daniel – _Chief Sousa_ – had _sworn_ he would try to get her transferred back to New York within a few months. By her estimation, she wanted that just as badly as he did.

But until then, here she was, and it had been something _beyond_ emotionally draining to go into work today, to spend the day around Chief Sousa as if she’d never thought they were anything more than colleagues. So, yes, the moment she came home, she’d gone to her bedroom, and she hadn’t left, not even when Mr. Jarvis tried to get her to come out and share dinner with him and Ana.

“ _No, thank you, I’m not in the mood for company.”_

She’d said it to Jarvis about dinner, and she’d told Ana the same thing later when the redhead had ever-so-gently invaded her room to see how she was doing.

Once Ana had left, once Peggy was certain she was alone, she’d rolled over in bed, stared at the wall, and concentrated on not crying until she fell asleep.

The next morning, she found herself awake much earlier than usual and unable to go back to sleep. Again, she stared at the wall and very purposely did not cry. She was going to be a big girl today. She was perfectly capable – she was perfectly _fine._ She was going to put on her makeup, do her hair, slip on her heels, tilt her hat just so, and go to work to do her job right up there with the best of them. She was Peggy Carter, and that was just what Peggy Carter _did._

Peggy Carter _did not_ lay abed sulking about a man who had decided he did not want her.

That reminder firmly in place, she shifted, intent on getting up despite the early hour – only to hear a loud _crash_ from below her. From the same place, Howard swore, and down the hall from Peggy – in the kitchen – Mr. Jarvis did the same. Soft footsteps ran by Peggy’s bedroom door – that would be Ana, startled from her own bed as well – before Mr. Jarvis thundered down the stairs to Howard’s lab, muttering, “What did the bloody man do now?!” before he asked – presumably Howard – in a much more _proper_ tone of voice, “Sir, are you alright?”

 _Ah, yes, the beginnings of another day in paradise,_ Peggy thought dryly, sliding out of bed. At this rate she could not _wait_ to see what the rest of the day brought.

* * *

 

 _Why had she even thought such a thing?_ Peggy wondered morosely, staring with perfectly concealed horror at Chief Sousa as he gestured her into his office.

She’d managed to take advantage of Howard’s early morning lab accident and slip out of the house unnoticed, borrowing one of his cars to drive herself to work – thus fending off any in-route conversations Mr. Jarvis might want to have concerning her tumultuous emotional state. Feeling she’d done quite well on her own, she’d even remembered to leave a note so that no one would think the car stolen – and now Daniel – _Chief Sousa_ – was just asking her to waltz into his office?!

She inhaled slowly and let it back out, steeling herself as she marched in with head held high. _Very well; they_ did _still have to work together after all. Perhaps it was nothing._

As soon as the door was closed behind her, Chief Sousa announced, “I want to make sure we’re clear about where we stand, Carter.”

_Well, this wasn’t going to be nothing, then._

“Believe me, you made yourself quite clear, Chief. I don’t see what else there could possibly be to discuss,” she replied, trying to keep all traces of any sort of a tone out of her voice.

Sousa sighed, moving to sit back down behind his desk. “We made a mistake, Carter, you and I. When I left New York, we should’ve left any idea of ‘us’ there, and I’m sorry we didn’t. But we’re adults here, aren’t we? We can make a mistake, get hurt, but still manage to move on from it and be friends, can’t we? That’s all I want from you, Carter. Can we do that? Can you promise me you can do that? I don’t want to lose a professional relationship over this; you’re too good of an agent for that, and I want to be able to u-utilize you while I can.” He searched her blank face, asking again, “Alright?”

Let it never be said that Peggy Carter was not a decent actress when the moment called for it. She stifled a sigh, summoned up a convincingly cheerful smile, and replied, “Of course. That was exactly what I was hoping we could do.”

The chief smiled, obviously relaxing, as if he’d expected some sort of fight instead, but she honestly just didn’t feel like she had that in her at the moment, not for him. It wasn’t worth it. He nodded, replying, “Good. Great. In that case, now that we’ve got that cleared up and over with, can you look at this file that Rose left for you? I think something’s off between the original code and our translation of it.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Is she avoiding us?” Ana asked Edwin curiously, staring down at the note that Miss Carter had left on the kitchen counter as the duo ate their breakfast together.

“I suspect she’s avoiding the world in general as best as she can,” he replied drolly. “Don’t take it personally, my dear.”

“Not at all,” she said, instantly dismissing the notion. “But how can we help her if she won’t even let us be _around_ her?”

“She despises asking for help, and as long as she avoids people who would help her, she doesn’t have to admit that there’s a problem in the first place.”

“But she knows there’s a problem, surely!”

“Of course, but as long as she doesn’t have to admit it to others – as long as she doesn’t have to _let her guard down, show weakness_ – than that’s all right with her.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Ana declared bluntly.

“That,” Edwin calmly took a sip of his tea. “Is Miss Carter.”

“No one is as strong as she thinks she is, though.”

“I agree.” He arched an eyebrow over the edge of his mug, inquiring, “Have you informed her of that, though?”

“No.” There was a pause, then, curious again, and ever thoughtful, she asked, “Have you?”

“I tried, once,” he admitted. “But I don’t believe she took anything I said to heart, or if she ever did, she seems to have forgotten it of late.”

“Do you have any idea how we could remind her, then – help her? Really, how can we if she starts… dodging, pushing us away?”

“Push back somehow, I suppose – but gently. She’s entirely capable of pushing back… pushing away… running away… shutting down – however you would prefer to think of it. Walls that have already been thrown up will be heightened until they become positively insurmountable.”

“She’s strong to a fault, you mean,” Ana surmised.

“That’s one way to think of it, yes – the kindest way to word it.”

“Then maybe we ought to give her the opportunity to be ‘weaker’ and talk about it,” she murmured, gaze turning thoughtful.

“You saw more so than I how well that worked last night,” he pointed out.

“Perhaps the mistake last night was giving her a choice in the matter,” she answered lightly.

Edwin looked across the table at his wife a little dubiously, reminding her, “ _If_ Miss Carter is to be pressed, it _must_ be done _gently_.”

“Yes, of course,” she replied, her tone suddenly dismissive as she focused on him again.

_She had just gotten another idea, hadn’t she?_

“Ana…” he took her hand across the table, asking, “What is my wife thinking?”

Catching his leery tone, she smiled, returning question for question as she inquired, “Don’t you trust me, Mr. Jarvis?”

“With my very heart and soul, you know that… but Miss Carter –“

She squeezed his hand, gently cutting him off as she declared, “Miss Carter will be fine; you and I will see to that.”

“But how?” he asked again.

She sighed, murmuring, “If only she would’ve allowed you to drive her. That would be a chance for the two of you to talk.”

He nodded, and the two of them ate in companionable silence for a minute as they separately thought out the situation. “Ana,” he finally asked. “Would you mind driving a car home from a theatrical agency this evening?”

“Of course not,” she replied, even as her brow knitted at the odd question. “Why? Has it something to do with Mr. Stark’s studio?”

“Not at all. It’s just that it may be that the key to getting Miss Carter to talk _does_ still lie in giving her a choice,” he mused. “If we both go to Miss Carter’s place of work-“

“She works in a theatrical agency?”

“Yes, but that’s unimportant. If we both go, and both drive a car back here, Miss Carter at least has options concerning _which_ of us she allows to drive her home.”

“But the end result is the same,” Ana continued the thought with a growing smile. “She’ll be given a chance to talk, and she’ll know that’s exactly what it is.”

“Precisely,” Edwin nodded before trailing off, “And failing that…”

“And failing that,” Ana replied firmly. “We’ll move onto plan B.”

“Jarvis!” Mr. Stark called out suddenly. “I need you! Or – I need your help, anyway, not… _you,_ you. You’re _really_ not my type.”

Ana started to laugh quietly as Edwin, distracted from asking after Ana’s “plan B,” muttered a complaint and stood from the table. “I’m coming!”

Recognizing their day was about to officially begin, Ana tilted her cheek up to receive an expected kiss as she said, “Have a good day, Mr. Jarvis.”

His sigh was a soft breath against her cheek as he replied, “I will certainly endeavor to, darling.”

* * *

 

“How did the rest of your day go after breakfast?” Ana enquired as Edwin drove them to the theatrical agency he’d mentioned that morning.

“Not as terribly as I thought it might,” he admitted, rounding the final corner as he pulled up and parked the car.

“And how terribly do you think _this_ will go?” she asked, watching Miss Carter’s expression change as she saw Edwin and Ana get out of the car.

Under his breath, so that Ana but not Miss Carter could hear, he admitted, “I have no idea.”

* * *

 

Peggy, already in a dour mood thanks to her ever-present circumstances, was less than pleased when the Jarvises appeared as she was leaving the agency. They were up to something, she would bet on it, and whatever it was, it was likely the exact sort of thing she’d worked so hard to avoid this morning.

Ana, however, didn’t seem to see her expression, and she darted forward to hug her right there on the sidewalk. Peggy was in no mood to return the favor, or to play along with whatever the couple wanted, so she didn’t return the gesture. She felt Ana move her hand in a way that wasn’t quite right for a hug, though, and if it were anyone else she would’ve twisted their wrist behind their back, because she was pretty sure Ana had just stolen something from off her person.

Peggy’s suspicions were proven correct when Ana held up the keys to the car that Peggy had driven to work.

Suddenly she saw what the game was to be.

“No,” she said flatly, already getting the feeling that it was a fruitless gesture as she held her hand out for the keys and demanded, “Give those to me; I’m driving myself back to Howard’s.”

Predictably, Mr. Jarvis declared, “I wouldn’t hear of it. Ana and I are both here; one of us can drive you. The only question is… which one of us would you prefer?”

“Really?” Peggy turned to him, snapping, “This is what you’re doing? You’re behaving like children.”

“You’re the one causing a stir, Miss Carter,” he pointed out levelly, even whilst he knew _exactly_ what he was doing. “I’m only doing what my employment demands of me.”

“Well, what if I demand the keys back?!”

Mr. Jarvis sighed, crossing his arms over his chest as Ana arched her eyebrows at Peggy – both of them waiting for her to come to an inescapable decision. All but growling out a sigh, the agent nodded towards Mr. Jarvis muttering, “You I can at least intimidate into silence.”

Giving her a thin smile of amusement, he took that as her answer and opened up the passenger side door of the car for her.


	4. Chapter 4

The moment they were on the road, Peggy asked pointedly, “I’m sure it goes without saying, Mr. Jarvis, that I do not want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” he asked, feigning innocence as he kept his gaze straight ahead.

She glared at him, and he pretended not to notice. For a moment the space between them was quiet, somewhere between familiar and tension-fraught, before she asked, “So whose brilliant idea was this particular ambush – yours or Ana’s?”

“Aaahh,” he hummed warily before admitting, “This venture in particular was mine. I do not appreciate being, as Ana put it this morning, ‘dodged.’”

“I was not—“                                       

“You were,” he interrupted frankly. “And blatantly so.”

She huffed before muttering, “And this is _exactly_ why.”

“Because we are concerned for you, someone we care about?” he asked, his tone never wavering in its matter-of-factness.

“Because you are _meddling_!”

“Miss Carter, it has been my experience that unless you are absolutely _cornered_ or laying abed, or otherwise unable to remove yourself from the situation, you _will not_ address your… emotional state, no matter how badly you need to. Thus, seeing as neither Ana nor I would like to see you bedridden again, we decided on cornering you.”

“You’re both very ridiculous for doing so.” He raised his eyebrows, but let the remark slide in silence. A moment passed, becoming almost awkward before she said, “I’ve mentioned to you before that I like the silence, so let’s keep this ride that way, shall we?” This time not even his expression twitched, and he determinedly let the silence stretch on until Peggy huffed again and gave in sharply, demanding, “Very well – you want to know how my day went? I slept very little last night, only to go into work this morning and be dragged first thing into a conversation with Chief Sousa that I neither wanted not was ready for. He talked about how he wanted us to be ‘adults’ and forget about our… _dalliance,_ and go about our lives, preserving our professional relationship as if nothing had happened. And I agreed, of course I agreed, because one more time he’s right and I am an idiot. How was your day, Mr. Jarvis?”

Ignoring her question, he asked carefully, “Did that help you? That little… tirade?”

Sighing, still moodily, she muttered, “Of course not.”

“Then tell me, please, Miss Carter, what _would_ help you? What can I do?”

She sighed, again, looking out the window with a tell-tale roll of her eyes that meant she was battling tears. _Oh dear._ “It has been _my experience_ , Mr. Jarvis, that these things simply take time. There is no automatic fix. There is no tea that will sooth every wound, there is no alcohol that will truly return all the confidence… there is just time.”

“And perhaps talking about it?” he suggested as carefully as ever.

“I have no desire to burden you or your wife with the woes of my pitiful _love life_ , Mr. Jarvis,” she said firmly.

He glanced away from the road long enough to frown at her quite sternly as he replied, just as firmly as she was being, and perhaps more so, “You are _never_ a burden to us, Miss Carter. Ana would give you a frankly _lethal_ tongue-lashing if she ever heard you say such a thing.”

She smiled sadly at him. “But you and Ana have already found one another; you are both perfectly content for the rest of your life together knowing that you have your perfect soulmate at your side. I have not been so lucky… and, really, that’s not something you or Mrs. Jarvis are capable of helping me find, is it?”

It wasn’t a _real_ question, but he answered her anyway, murmuring, “I suppose not. But, nonetheless, we are _here_ , and you _must_ be willing to come talk to us when you need someone to listen to you – and if you are about to say some variant of ‘you don’t want to bother anyone,’ let me stop you before you can waste your breath. Chief Sousa is a special version of a fool, and a… a… truthfully, words escape me to describe his stupidity and _awfulness_.” The heat that had been gaining in his voice halted suddenly, and he was gentle once more as he said, “Miss Carter, men like Daniel Sousa do not deserve your tears.”

She smiled fondly at him, and, yes, there were tears in her eyes even as she teased, “Mr. Jarvis, what would Mrs. Jarvis say if she heard you flatter me so?”

He returned the smile a little more seriously, replying, “Considering that you’re smiling, I suspect she would say ‘good job, darling.’”

She snorted suddenly, her mood slowly lifting as she said, “Yes, well then, ‘good job, darling.’” He looked at her then, so startled and his expression so priceless, that she burst out laughing despite herself. Finally she calmed enough to ask, curious and still smiling, “What would Ana say if she heard _that_?”

He shook his head, smiling ruefully at her as he admitted, “I’m sure I have no idea.”

Peggy didn’t reply, her gaze wandering back out the window as she smiled, managing to shut her mind off for once in the past three days. Glancing at her sideways as he drove, Edwin smiled softly when he knew she wouldn’t notice. Perhaps it hadn’t been the long talk that he and Ana had originally been angling for, but the fact that she _was_ smiling had to mean something, right?

* * *

 

Only once they were back at Mr. Stark’s mansion did Edwin realize how actually fruitless his conversation with Miss Carter had been. They’d made one another laugh for a moment… but she hadn’t ultimately said anything that might help her emotional well-being as a whole.

She needed to well and truly fall apart on someone’s shoulder – at least in his opinion – but that begged the question… on whose shoulder?

He didn’t mean to sound arrogant, but if she was not willing to let her guard down around him, then who, in all of Las Angeles might she trust so?

Apparently no one, because the first moment he looked away from her once at Mr. Stark’s residence, she had locked herself in her bedroom again.


	5. Chapter 5

“Mr. Jarvis, I am _in bed_!” Miss Carter complained loudly.

Outside the closed bedroom door, Edwin Jarvis breathed a vicious curse under his breath before saying loudly enough that he could be heard by her, “It is _only_ 8:45. Do not _tell me_ you are abed for the evening already.”

She replied impertinently, “It _is_ 8:45; shouldn’t you be getting ready for bed yourself?”

He muttered a prayer for patience – _ordinarily, one should never pray for patience; it brought about trials, but Miss Carter was being_ quite _the trial at the moment_ – before he replied, “I’m planning to, but Ana’s concerned for you again, and I thought it might ease her mind if you’d at least make an appearance in the living room and say ‘good night’ beforehand.”

There was a pause, and then the question, “If I do, will you go away?”

“If you come out, I’ll go over with you to the living room, but then, yes,” he agreed, “I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the night.”

“Is this a trap?” she asked suspiciously.

“This is nothing more than my attempt at finding a way to ease Ana’s mind,” he assured her with a soft snort.

There was more silence, then the subtle shuffle of movement, and Edwin smiled triumphantly to himself. Miss Carter unlocked and opened her bedroom door, knotting the tie of her robe as she brushed past him and marched silently towards the living room. The very air around her betrayed the fact that she was irritated with him, but he lengthened his stride until he was at her side anyway.

“Miss Carter—”

“Mr. Jarvis,” she broke in sharply, staring stubbornly ahead. “If you ask me one more time if I am ‘all right,’ I may not be able to stave off the urge to dislocate your shoulder.”

He clamped his mouth shut then, looking sideways at her. On second thought, the question didn’t really need asking; one glance at her made the answer fairly obvious to the even semi-observant eye. Her back was rigidly straight, her jaw was set stubbornly, and her eyes were hard despite the fact that they were red-rimmed.

 _Strong to a fault_ , Ana had said.

Ana was right; someone needed to break down Miss Carter’s walls – but _who_ , and how?

“Just know that I am here,” he murmured to her as they got closer to the living room. “And willing to help you however I can.”

“Can you kill Chief Sousa for me?” she asked lightly, even as her eyes remained dark.

His tone turned a little petulant as he informed her, “Ana told me I wasn’t allowed to.”

That startled a laugh from her, and the light of it even hit her eyes – just in time for her to swipe at her eyes once and step into the living room.

Ana, who had been finishing up a bit of sewing for the evening, looked up in surprise at the unexpected sound. “Miss Carter!” she smiled, glancing suspiciously at Edwin as she asked the agent lightly, “Have you been coaxed back to the land of the living?”

Miss Carter smiled the awkward, nearly-overwhelmed smile that so often made an appearance around Ana, and said, “I thought I might come and tell you ‘good night.’”

Ana patted the empty space beside her on the loveseat – close quarters, by Miss Carter’s standards – with a simple, “I see.”

Edwin was very willing to bet that his wife did know exactly what was going on, how he’d talked the brunette into this.

Miss Carter took the offered seat beside Ana, looking mildly flustered. “I’m really not… I really just meant to say ‘good night.’”

“Mmm,” Ana hummed, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly for a moment upon Miss Carter – _did she see something that Edwin did not?_ Then she folded the other woman into a tight hug, saying casually, “Good night then.”

Miss Carter hugged her right back, surprisingly just as tightly after a moment. From his vantage point near the doorway, Edwin saw the agent take a slow breath, doing her best to stay in control even as she rested her forehead momentarily against Ana’s shoulder. Just as quickly, the signs of distress were gone – along with, he suspected, the desire to fall apart in the redhead’s arms.

Miss Carter leaned away, offering Ana a smile. Then she opened her mouth, as if she wanted to tell the other woman something, but she seemed to change her mind, instead muttering another, “Good night.”

Ana squeezed Miss Carter’s hand as the other woman stood. “Good night.”

Edwin felt a stab of guilt, watching the duo as Miss Carter approached him. He’d meant to initiate something that might make them both feel better, but by all appearances, this had made it _worse_ for both.

_But how to fix it…?_

Impulsively, he brushed his fingertips against Miss Carter’s arm as she passed him, and murmured lightly, “Good night, darling” – the first thing that had gotten her to laugh in the car earlier.

Both women’s eyes snapped wide open as they looked at him in wild surprise.

“Earlier, the joke you made…” he reminded the agent, on the off chance she was misunderstanding him.

“I remember the joke, Mr. Jarvis! I also happen to remember that you already _have_ a darling!”

She raised her eyebrows, nodding pointedly towards Ana, only for Edwin to assure her, “Of _course_ I remember that!”

From the loveseat, Ana suggested brightly, “Perhaps you ought to call one another ‘sweetheart’ instead.”

It was Edwin’s turn to be shocked – and Miss Carter’s, too, again – as they looked together at Ana.

The Jewess burst out laughing, reminding them in between giggles, “You two started this one!”

“But—“ Edwin stammered, once again uncertain what to make of his wife today. “Like I said, it’s merely a joke from earlier today.”

“It actually involved something we thought you might say,” Miss Carter added helpfully.

Edwin admitted, “I thought it might elicit a final smile from our guest for the evening, actually.”

Ana rolled her expressive eyes – signal enough that she wanted them to stop talking – and smiled while she informed them as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “I don’t actually _care_.”

The other two asked together, “You don’t?”

“No…” Ana shook her head. To Edwin she said, “Call her whatever she’ll allow you to, if you like.” To Miss Carter, she added, “And the same goes for you… love.”

It took Peggy a second to catch onto the fact that Mrs. Jarvis had meant the term as a pet-name of her own. Out of the corner of her eye, she registered Mr. Jarvis pinning his wife with a puzzled look as the brunette rolled her eyes and inquired dryly, “Is that endearment going to stick, Mrs. Jarvis?”

The redhead’s only reply was a sweet smile, but her glittering eyes answered the question well enough, dragging a resigned sigh from Peggy. “Mrs. Jarvis, I do not know what to make of you,” she said frankly. “But on that note, I am going to bed. Good night.” She glanced at Mr. Jarvis, adding dryly, “Good night, _sweetheart_.”

Then she was going back to her bedroom and climbing in bed without even bothering to lock the door.


	6. Chapter 6

The moment Miss Carter was back in her room, the sparkle in Ana’s eyes turned thoughtful and she said solemnly, “She’s really not alright, is she?”

Edwin shook his head with a frown, admitting softly, “She nearly cried when you hugged her.”

That quickly, Ana’s thoughtfulness turned to a pinched frown, and she went still for a second before standing and starting to leave the room like a woman on a mission.

“Ana?” he asked, reaching out and catching her hand.

She smiled at him, worried but somehow determined. “Don’t expect me to come to bed for a little while, alright, darling? Maybe not at all tonight.”

“Ana,” he repeated, a little alarmed at the implication that she didn’t intend to sleep. “What are you going to do?”

She paused another second, searching his eyes – for what, he had not even the faintest idea – before she asked, “Do you trust me?”

_A variation of the question that she’d asked at breakfast this morning… So was she thinking about the same thing she had been then – whatever it was?_

“Of course I do. Yes.”

Her eyebrows came up slowly as she asked, “Do you believe that I will always have your best interest at heart?”

Now he was the one searching her face, trying to figure out what on earth his confusing wife was thinking. She was considering so much more than what she was saying, and he didn’t have enough information regarding what that was. But he could still answer the question she’d asked without a second thought.

He was becoming concerned, though, and pulled her to him, one arm around her waist, his other hand coming up to cup her cheek. “ _Yes_ – of course. But… my darling, what _is_ it? _What_ are you thinking?”

She gave him a halfway lighthearted smile, bringing her hands up to rest on his chest. “I am thinking… that I am going to do everything I can to help this situation. But I need you to trust me—”

“I do, explicitly.”

“—And I need you to know that I love you.”

“Of course I know that! Darling… is there something I should know? You’re frightening me.”

She shook her head rapidly. “No, don’t- don’t be _afraid_. I just… I don’t know how to… to _discuss_ what I think right this instant. I need more information first, maybe.  Maybe… I need you to… come to a conclusion on your own. You will, and it won’t take you long, if I’m right. But I- I think this time I need you to start the conversation.”

He shook his head, more bewildered than ever. A little desperately, he implored, “A conversation about _what_? I don’t understand!”

“But you _will_ ,” she assured him. “And in the meantime, I’m going to do what I think is the best thing for us. You know I love you, yes?”

“Yes, but—”

She slipped quickly out of the circle of his arms, holding his hands tightly as she said firmly, “And I know – my darling, no matter what, I _know_ – you love me.”

She tugged on his tie, and he leaned in to kiss her good night automatically. So she kissed him, squeezed his hand one more time, and suggested softly, “Go to bed, Mr. Jarvis. Everything is _fine_ , I promise.”

It didn’t _feel_ fine, but she didn’t really seem to be _worried_ , and he _did_ trust her, so… maybe he should take her word for it, for now, and do his best to simply observe until he figured out what on earth she was talking about.

“Mrs. Jarvis,” he asked. “Am I right… to get the feeling that you’re trying to… change something?” More to the point – “Is something changing?”

Her smile widened then, and she looked more confident than ever as she said, “I genuinely hope so.”

Then she hurried the both of them off to dress for bed in thoughtful silence, and Edwin found himself wondering for the thousandth time in their marriage what his wife was up to.

Somehow she was ready before he was though, having taken her hair down, slipped on a gown and robe, and disappeared.

* * *

 

Ana got ready for bed in their bedroom, and Edwin in the bathroom, so at the first opportunity, she slipped out of the room and down the hall to Miss Carter’s room. She didn’t bother with keeping her entrance quiet, letting the door creak as she opened it.

Predictably, Miss Carter turned in her bed at the sound, and her face fell when Ana came around the corner. “Mrs. Jarvis, I’m afraid I really don’t feel like having further company this evening.”

Ana shrugged – this much she’d certainly been expecting. “We don’t have to talk,” she replied lightly, coming further into the room and sitting on the bench beside the agent’s bed. “But I would like to sit with you.”

She didn’t add anything remotely like _“if you’ll let me,”_ as she had last night, a subtle difference she wasn’t sure Miss Carter even noticed.

“Why?” the brunette asked, her tone giving nothing away.

“Perhaps it’s for my own piece of mind,” Ana suggested.

Miss Carter’s shoulders fell, and she stifled a sigh. “You don’t have to… _babysit_ me. I’m not _broken_ , and I don’t need fixing, or cornering, or whatever this is. Mrs. Jarvis, I am tired, and I want to sleep.”

Ana surveyed her for a second, the other woman’s eyes fastened stubbornly on hers. This was the point where, last night, she had left the room – but that wasn’t going to happen again. Ana wasn’t going to let it. Edwin’s warning to remain gentle rang in her ears, but she also knew that he gave Miss Carter more… leeway than Ana herself was inclined to. The agent _needed_ to _talk this through._ At the very least, she needed to not be alone as much as she had been the past days.

“Very well,” Ana replied simply, deciding to make the bold decision. She pulled back the bedcovers and slid into the bed beside her, not _touching_ , but sharing the intimate space – _being there_ for her. “Sleep.”

Miss Carter was frozen, staring wide-eyed at her and looking utterly startled beyond words. “Mrs. Jarvis, I don’t think—”

“I’m not going anywhere, Miss Carter,” Ana interrupted her, gentle and firm, a statement of fact and a promise. “Turn away and ignore me if you wish – that’s often how my sister and I slept when we were younger – but I am _here_ , if you want me, if you need me, and I’m not going anywhere.”

For another long moment, Miss Carter just stared as something like resignation slowly seeped into her brown eyes. She let out a soft breath, caught somewhere between a sigh and a huff, and turned her back to Ana, ostensibly to go to sleep. So Ana did the same.

Ten minutes passed in not-quite-tense silence before Ana heard a tell-tale sniffle from her bed partner. She tensed, frowning, and wanting nothing more than to wrap the other woman in a hug – but “ _she does not hug…”_

But this was what she was here for; Ana couldn’t allow herself to do _nothing_. She turned in the bed, laying her arm gently across the other woman’s waist to take her hand. Again, Miss Carter froze, but after a second she squeezed the redhead’s hand.

There was more occasional sniffling, and after another five minutes had passed, Miss Carter whispered, “I feel so stupid. I finally let my guard down after Steve, I finally took a leap of faith, and the first thing it gets me is kicked in the teeth. I don’t think he ever loved me. I think he loved what he thought I was… but I don’t think he ever loved _me_.” Her voice broke as she admitted, “Sometimes I wonder if anyone ever will love _me_. When I put on my lipstick, my high heels, and my hat, I become this… _symbol_ , I suppose. I become ‘Agent Peggy Carter, Captain America’s Girlfriend.’ And I guess that’s inspiring, and glamorous to some;” she snorted depreciatingly. “Maybe even that’s just good arm candy. There are people who see me as- as ‘Betty Carver,’ too, the… the helpless woman who slept her way to where she is today, and maybe if someone’s lucky, I’ll share _their_ bed too. That’s what people want from me – a pretty face, or a _decent_ agent, or a- an easy night of fun.

But I may not be _any_ of those things; I may be so much _more_ than those things, and I- I don’t want someone to want me for that. I want someone to want me for me, for _whatever_ that means. I want someone to want Peggy Carter – just _Peggy_ – the soldier who assembles rifles quicker than her superiors, the agent who can do anything her coworkers do, the girlfriend who,” she laughed hollowly at herself, “Has no real idea how to navigate relationships, the woman who refuses to leave the house without her lipstick on, the _human being_ who- who has tea every morning before leaving the house or else she’ll get a caffeine headache, who is terrified of snakes, who adores watching thunderstorms, who could beat her brother at a drinking contest or a footrace. And… and that’s a lot to take in; it’s a lot to love.

It’s not- it’s not _just_ about Daniel – Chief Sousa – in a way that doesn’t even surprise me anymore – it’s also the thought of ‘what if?’ What if this was my last chance to find ‘the one,’ and I mucked it up too? Every time I finally convince myself to let my guard down, to love, the other person either dies or walks away. What if it’s a sign? What if I need to stop trying to find someone? What if I’m not _meant_ to find someone – ever? What if I’m supposed to be alone for the rest of my life?”

Suddenly, Peggy rolled slowly over in the bed to face Ana, and the redhead ached to see the brokenhearted vulnerability and exhaustion in her eyes, the tear tracks on her cheeks. “I’m a lot to handle, I know. What if… there’s not anyone out there for me?”

Mentally throwing “she does not hug” to the curb, Ana wrapped her arms around Peggy, and the other woman was so wrung out that, for once, she just burrowed down, curling in further until her head was resting above Ana’s steady heartbeat. Within minutes she was asleep, leaving Ana still trying to sort out the right thing to say to help her.

Noticing that Peggy’s breathing had evened out, Ana pressed a kiss to the top of her head, murmuring, “ _Mi van, ha mar ket ember van itt, akik imadlak, dragam?”_


	7. Chapter 7

After getting in bed, it took Edwin all of fifteen minutes to climb back out of it and go in search of Ana. Fallowing the inherent instinct that came after seven years of marriage, he went to check Miss Carter’s room first. After last night, he wouldn’t put it past his wife to try the same thing again.

Except, when he stopped out of sight around the corner, he didn’t hear Ana’s gentle voice this time. What he did hear made him stop anyway.

Miss Carter was talking – a rapid, tear-soaked, blowing up and letting it all out rant – and even without seeing her, he instinctively knew that this was where Ana was; somehow, she had gotten her to talk.

Admittedly, he would’ve stayed, listening in, regardless of whether or not Ana was present, given what the agent was saying.

_“…tea every morning before leaving the house or else she’ll get a caffeine headache, who is terrified of snakes, who adores watching thunderstorms, who could beat her brother at a drinking contest or a footrace. And… and that’s a lot to take in; it’s a lot to love._

_It’s not- it’s not just about Daniel – Chief Sousa – in a way that doesn’t even surprise me anymore – it’s also the thought of ‘what if?’ What if this was my last chance to find ‘the one,’ and I mucked it up too? Every time I finally convince myself to let my guard down, to love, the other person either dies or walks away. What if it’s a sign? What if I need to stop trying to find someone? What if I’m not meant to find someone – ever? What if I’m supposed to be alone for the rest of my life?_

_“I’m a lot to handle, I know. What if… there’s not anyone out there for me?”_

There had been occasional creaking from the bed, and in a spell of silence between the two women, Edwin had to wonder absently, _Had Ana actually gotten in the bed with her – without suffering bodily harm for it, for that matter?_

He could’ve – perhaps, _should’ve_ – left then – after all, it wasn’t really his conversation to listen in to, was it? Instead, he found himself crouching, bracing his back against the partition, and waiting for he knew not what – until he heard it.

“ _Mi van, ha mar ket ember van itt, akik imadlak, dragam?”_

Ana’s reply – spoken so soft and sweet, as if to someone who was asleep, and maybe Miss Carter was now. He didn’t know, and in the face of what Ana had said, he couldn’t even remotely bring himself to care.

_What if there’s already two people right here who adore you, love?_

Edwin breathed a soundless sigh through his nose, leaning his head back until it hit the wall as he was hit with more thoughts than he could even begin to untangle.

_What? How? Did she think—? Had she guessed that—? Surely she didn’t mean – wasn’t implying—? But what of—?_

His lovely, perfect wife had the capacity to love a legion of soldiers and agents and humans beings just as well as she loved him, he doubted that not at all, but _surely_ Ana didn’t mean to imply that…?

Suddenly he remembered that moment in the shower the night before. He’d suggested harming Chief Sousa the same way he had Ms. Frost, and _that_ was when Ana had first gotten this idea of hers…

Again at the breakfast table – _this_ , he realized, was what she’d thought of then, invading Miss Carter’s room and not leaving until the agent said what she needed to.

And the absolutely _baffling_ way Ana had acted in the living room. _“Perhaps you ought to call one another ‘sweetheart’ instead.”_

 _“I don’t actually_ care _.”_

_“Call her whatever she’ll allow you to, if you like. And the same goes for you… love.”_

_“I am going to do everything I can to help this situation.”_

_“I need you to know that I love you.”_

_“I need you to… come to a conclusion on your own. You will, and it won’t take you long, if I’m right._

_“I’m going to do what I think is the best thing for us. You know I love you, yes?_

_“I know – my darling, no matter what, I_ know _– you love me.”_

_“Is something changing?” “I genuinely hope so.”_

Edwin put his head in his hands, feeling dizzy and half sick to his stomach in the best and worst of ways all at once.

Running back through his memories, he tried to figure out… _How long had Ana been angling for this? Just twenty-four hours, or longer?_

_“—Unless you’d prefer to go for another round with my husband?”_

He laughed and swore all at once. _Blessed, ridiculous Ana – in her own way, she’d meant that, hadn’t she?_

 _But… But_ did he _care about Miss Carter?_ That _way? Did he –_ could _he – love another woman the way he did Ana? As_ entirely _as he loved Ana?_

The thought made his head spin, and his thoughts spiral in a dozen different directions. He shut the idea down in his mind before it could even really begin.

Only to hear the softly-spoken call, “Darling?”

He breathed another curse, this time at being caught, and eased his way to his feet, stepping into view of his wife.

To his immense relief, Miss Carter appeared to be asleep… curled into Ana. As he walked closer, he couldn’t help noticing the tear tracks on her cheeks. For all their one-on-one time together, he had never seen the brunette truly cry – but Ana… she just had that way about her, he supposed.

He was relieved that Miss Carter had finally given herself permission to open up, as it were… and yet he felt a most _ridiculous_ stab of _something. Oh, good Lord,_ why _?_

Because he wanted her to feel free to open up to him like that.

She had before, in New York, in the beginning of their so-called partnership, he reminded himself firmly. She knew she _could_ come to him.

 As long as she had _talked_ , it didn’t really matter to whom.

Shutting down that thought process as well, he asked Ana quietly, “How did you know I was there?”

Seemingly oblivious to his strange, tumultuous thoughts, Ana smiled like it was a silly question and replied, “You hit your head on the wall _and_ started swearing – rather fiercely, I might add.” She arched an eyebrow, her tone hushed but prodding as she inquired, “Why?”

Staying silent, he shrugged, glancing away and feeling inexplicably a bit like a scolded child.

Sensing that he would not be answering that line of questioning, she changed the subject by asking, “Would you like to join us? I hate to leave her; she’s so,” Ana glanced at Miss Carter, and only then did Edwin realize what his wife was suggesting. “Wound around me, I’m afraid she’ll wake if I move.”

His first instinct at the idea was for his eyes to go wide, but as he took a second to consider it, he realized it might not have been such a terrible thing.

\--But – _“I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the night.”_

That _was_ what he had promised Miss Carter, so – “No, I don’t think I will.”

“Will you at some point?” Ana asked – a perfectly innocent question, but he narrowed his eyes at it anyway. She was fishing for his opinion, and now that he understood her thoughts on the subject, it was painfully easy to see what she was trying to… get a read on. Seeing his assessing gaze, she inquired, “Mr. Jarvis?”

He shook his head, replying, “You told me I could start this conversation when _I_ wish to, and I wish to discuss it in the morning.” Leaning over her to kiss her forehead, he murmured, “Good night, my darling.”

“Good night,” she replied. Then he saw the coy smile grow on her face, knew what she was going to ask even before she said it. “Aren’t you going to kiss her ‘good night’ too?”

 _So they were dropping the pretenses of his ignorance already, then? Lovely, ridiculous wife of his…_ And yet he found himself considering it for a moment.

“No,” he decided firmly. “Not while she’s asleep. If she found out about it, she’d be likely to cut my head off, and I rather like having it on my shoulders. So good night. I’ll be in our room if you need me.”

Then he walked out of the room, pausing for a moment before he turned the corner and glancing over his shoulder at Ana and Miss Carter, at the way the redhead had curled into the brunette the moment he walked away. Limbs, and curls made of both flames and velvet, intertwined, and only as he looked at them did he realize how truly happy Miss Carter _did_ make both himself and Ana.

_But did that mean that they should do something about it?_


	8. Chapter 8

As late as she dared to before Miss Carter – _Peggy, after a night sleeping in each other’s arms it seemed so much easier to think of her as “Peggy”_ – woke, Ana slipped out of the woman’s room and towards her own. She opened the bedroom door to find Edwin sitting on the edge of the bed, half-dressed in just his pants and a half-buttoned shirt, toying with the tie he held in his hands. His head was bowed, his brow furrowed in thought, and she wondered if perhaps he had been waiting for her.

The look in his eyes as he lifted his head when she stepped closer affirmed the thought.

 _He had said they would talk in the morning, and the morning_ was _now_. _So_ …

Even as the thought crossed her mind, he asked, “What are you after, Mrs. Jarvis?” For reasons she didn’t understand, he added “Ana,” as if he were somehow correcting himself over what her name was.

For a moment she wished she hadn’t told him he should be the one to begin the conversation – she now knew exactly how she would’ve started it – but she had. She shut the bedroom door and crossed to the closet, taking off her robe and hanging it up as she reminded him, “I told you I wanted to discuss it once you’ve come to your own conclusion on that subject. If you have to ask that question, you still don’t understand.”

“Then take it as a rhetorical question,” he remarked, watching as she chose her outfit for the day from the closet. “Because what I want is to make sure that I understand what _I think you’re thinking_.”

She laid a shirt and skirt out on the bed, slipping her nightgown off right there in front of him so she didn’t have to look him properly in the eyes as she asked, “What do you think I’m thinking?”

She heard him mutter something discontentedly as she opened the dresser drawer that contained her undergarments, heard the comforter rustle as he had to turn away lest he become thoroughly distracted from the conversation he was so valiantly trying to start. Ana smiled despite herself as she had a little mercy and made quick work of changing her unmentionables.

 _She wasn’t_ trying _to make this difficult for him… was she?_

“You can turn around now,” she informed him, a smile painting her tone and expression as she reached for the top that she’d laid out on the bed.

As soon as she’d spoken, he wrapped his hand over her hand where it was fisted in the hem of the top. She tugged, only for his grip to tighten gently around her hand until she looked him in the eyes. “Are you afraid to talk about this?” he asked steadily.

“No. I rather think I started it in the first place, didn’t I?”

“And yet you told me to start the conversation.”

“Because I didn’t want you to feel cornered; this is something I was afraid you would run from without considering at all if I tried to do that.”

He neither agreed nor disagreed, asking instead, “Then… now that I _am_ considering it… or… trying to – how would you start the conversation?”

“You want to start this right this second?” she asked, gesturing to her own state of undress.

“I like the view,” he replied with a surprisingly coy smirk of his own, shrugging as his eyes roamed her body in a way that would’ve gotten any other human being a solid punch to the stomach.

Under his gaze, warmth curled in her stomach, and she asked, “Are we talking about this, or doing something that _doesn’t require words_ , Mr. Jarvis?”

She could tell he stifled a sigh, the choice he made being stated as a rather stern reminder to them both. “Talking.”

This time when she tried to tug her hand away from his, he lifted it to his lips, kissed her knuckles, and then released it. She picked her shirt up and slipped it on, giving herself a moment to consider the words she knew she wanted to say before actually _saying_ them.

She was tempted to put on her skirt as she spoke, give herself another reason not to look at him as she pointed out what she saw as obvious, but she didn’t. She had to say even blunt words carefully right now, or she still felt he might bolt on the idea.

At some point last night she had realized that she wanted this too, in some strangely different way. She wanted this for _herself_ , somehow, not just Edwin.

But _really_ , there was no way that she could come up with where her words sounded anything but blunt.

“Darling…” she finally informed him. “You _already_ look at her like you love her.”

_Please don’t run from this, Edwin…_

“I…” he blinked rapidly, opening and closing his mouth a couple of times. But if he had waited patiently for her to speak, then she could do the same. “I do not!”

Ana shook her head at the predictable response, asking, “At what point did I say that it was wrong? I’m not—” the very idea made her incredulous as she assured him. “I’m not accusing you of, of _infidelity_ – I’m not _accusing_ you of _anything._ I’m sharing an observation, and offering a solution. You love her… and if you would like to approach her in some way about the idea of a… courtship, or a relationship… whatever you might desire –” she rolled her eyes “—Friends with benefits, for all I care—” and was gratified to see Edwin look _truly_ horrified at that last suggestion. “Then you have my blessing. _That_ is what I’m trying to say. That is _all_ I’m trying to say.”

For a while, there was silence in the room while he thought, and she let him. She put on her hose, skirt, and shoes, then knelt down in front of Edwin, buttoning his shirt the rest of the way and then tying his tie for him, resting her hands on one of his knees before she asked carefully, “What are you thinking, Mr. Jarvis?”

His eyes had been clouded with thought, and he hadn’t really focused his gaze on her even while they were practically breathing the same air, but now he focused on her for a moment, still thoughtful and silent, before he took her hands and urged her to sit on the edge of the bed. She obliged, watching as he went to her vanity, picked up her hairbrush, and then sat sideways behind her on the edge of the bed, beginning to brush her hair before he spoke.

It was something they had found relaxed them both – he liked the steady, practiced motion, and she simply adored the feeling of someone toying with her hair.

 _So he was trying to keep_ her _calm? Why?_

“Perhaps I do look at her as you say I do,” he finally admitted, his deep, gentle voice filling the room. “But, my darling… I believe it may have just struck me how Miss Carter looks at _you_.”


	9. Chapter 9

_“Perhaps I do look at her as you say I do, but, my darling… I believe it may have just struck me how Miss Carter looks at_ you _.”_

Ana froze.

 “What?” she asked, uncertain what she ought to even _think_ , let alone _say_.

Edwin’s hands stayed steady as he brushed her hair, and his tone, too, was level, firm and gentle, with a sudden surety that she didn’t know how to take. “I thought even as late as last night in the living room that perhaps the way she smiled at you meant that she was… overwhelmed, or… uncertain what to do with someone who could be so… boisterous.”

“I know I can be overwhelming, Edwin,” Ana declared with a thin smile. “What does that have to do with… what you’re thinking?”

“My darling, she looks at you… not as I do, I don’t think, but it’s something close to it. You’re bright and you’re good, and you are, I suspect, somewhat angelic in her eyes. In her own way, she loves _you._ ”

Ana resisted the urge to rebuff the idea, trying instead to sort through the _heart_ of what that might mean. “I do not…” she said faintly. “I’m not sure that I…”

“You’re not sure of what, darling?” he asked kindly, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back against his chest.

“I could love almost _everyone_ , Edwin!” she said with a self-depreciating laugh.

To which he replied, “Yes…?” pressing a kiss to her hair. She stayed silent, propping her chin on his arm where he’d wrapped it around her shoulders. So he spoke instead. “You say that as if it’s a negative thing. Ana, it is a _gift_ to be able to look at the world as you do. To have such an… _indomitable_ spirit, Mrs. Jarvis… it is no wonder to me that _anyone_ would find themselves in love with you.”

“But she loves _you_ ,” Ana repeated, feeling more confused than ever… especially after the things she’d felt last night, in the silence of Miss Carter’s room, the other woman surrounding her as she considered the fact that Miss Carter must at least _trust_ her so. “This wasn’t supposed to be about me!”

Edwin hummed thoughtfully, propping his head atop hers. After a moment he asked thoughtfully, “Do you believe that I love you?”

“I know it with everything in me,” she promised instantly.

“And yet,” he continued slowly. “You think I love Miss Carter?”

“Yes.”

“Therefore,” he tilted her chin around so that their eyes were meeting, and his gaze was pointed as he spoke. “You think I love two people at once?”

Her eyes fluttered closed as she realized where he was going with this. “Yes,” she admitted, conceding his point.

He pressed a kiss to her brow, asking, “Then might Miss Carter be capable of the same thing? I _know_ that you are, you think that I am, so why not her as well?” She smiled turning her cheek so that it pressed against his shoulder, but words still seemed to be escaping her in the face of her whirling thoughts. “I _will not_ do this without you,” he said firmly, and she didn’t immediately understand.

“What?”

He shifted off of the bed to crouch before her, her hands in his as he made absolutely certain that she was looking him in the eye before he explained. “Ana Jarvis, you are my _wife_ – pursuing _anything_ with Miss Carter does not change that, and _nothing_ ever will. I _will not_ be the man who steps out on his wife, not even with her blessing.”

“Edwin, it’s not—”

“No, Ana,” he stopped her before her objection could even truly begin, and the dead seriousness in his eyes kept her silent so that he could say his piece. “I know what you believe, and what you would allow. I understand it, and I can appreciate it. Darling, I _do_ appreciate it, more than you could ever know, such selflessness. But… allow me to be a bit selfish in what I can allow _myself._

 _“_ Since the day we met, everything we have done together has been all the better for it. _We_ made it to America in safety. _We_ made a home in New York, and now California. _We_ planted a garden, and kept a house, and- and kept Howard Stark alive!” Ana chuckled, and he squeezed her hands, smiling himself before his expression became serious again. “I _will not_ do this without you,” he repeated. “If you want a- a courtship, a relationship between someone…” he paused for a moment, then nodded, as if coming to a decision. “Then very well,” his gaze turned resolute before her eyes. “Let’s attempt that – but it _must_ be together, or I will have nothing to do with it.”

“But what if we – you – are wrong?” Ana asked softly. “What if she _does_ only want you?”

He shook his head. “I don’t think I’m wrong – and in the event that I am…” he shrugged. “I won’t do it. I won’t feel that I _can_ , so I won’t. That’s very simple for me. Every potential relationship has deal breakers; you are mine.” Seeing her warring expression, he added, “And you won’t talk me out of that, either, Mrs. Jarvis.”

There was resignation in her smile, but she did smile, nodding her acceptance of his terms.

Edwin took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “Is there anything else that I need to know, darling? What are _you_ thinking?”

Ana paused, frowning at their intertwined hands before she looked back to him and said, “I think that we are perhaps making a lot of assumptions on Miss Carter’s feelings without having ever talked to her about them. And I think that if we do start down this road… the three of us are going to have a lot to learn, wouldn’t we?”

“Yes,” Edwin nodded instantly. “We would. As for Miss Carter’s _feelings…_ ” That brought on another deep sigh, and a pair of skeptically raised eyebrows.

“What is it?”

He rocked back on his heels where he crouched, then back into a more balanced position, trusting her not to let him fall as he replied slowly, “If you think – thought – that _I_ was going to bolt at the idea of this… then _Miss Carter_ …” he exhaled again, and Ana understood what he wasn’t sure how to say.

“You think she will too… and I agree.”

“And how do you propose we keep that from happening?”

He looked at her with wide, trusting eyes, and vaguely she wondered for a moment why he seemed to expect her to have a plan. They were now both playing this by ear, really, and praying that they didn’t crash and burn midflight.

“You still know her better than I do,” she pointed out. “What do _you_ think?”

“I think that she would bolt at a ‘conversation.’ Actually,” he thought back to the moment in the car where he’d tried to discuss her “sticky wicket” with her. “I _know_ she will flee from discussing romantic entanglements, if she’s given the chance.”

“What if we don’t discuss it with her?” Ana asked suddenly – _fine, maybe that was why he expected her to have ideas._

“I beg your pardon?”

She licked her lips, a bit of a nervous gesture, and said, “I know you didn’t approve yesterday morning when I said maybe we shouldn’t give her a choice, but… what if we just… start slow – and watch her, of course, very closely? Just… to see what she does at first?”

The first thing to flicker through his eyes was wariness – it wasn’t really his style, she knew – but when he asked, “How so?” he seemed at least willing to consider the idea.

She shrugged, not sure exactly _what_ it might entail. “Maybe you should just… watch for a bit? Follow my lead?” she suggested slowly.

He still looked dubious, but muttered, “That is generally the way of things, isn’t it?”

Ana smirked, but otherwise refused to acknowledge the rather lewd reference they both knew he’d just made. “Very well. For now, we’ll consider that the best plan of action we have. Maybe if we do this well, it won’t even have to become a ‘conversation.’”

“It will at some point,” Edwin objected factually. “She’ll require absolute clarification no matter what, eventually, I believe.”

“Mmm,” Ana hummed. “You’re right, I’m sure.  Now,” she picked up the hairbrush on the bed, asking, “Do you care to finish what you started, or shall I?”

And for the moment, that was that.


	10. Chapter 10

Not an hour later, Edwin was downstairs, putting out the last of Mr. Stark and Miss Carter’s breakfast before they, too, came down. Yet it was Ana who descended first, plucking up one of the plates and filling it.

“What are you doing?” he asked in confusion, watching her scoop eggs – and ham, too – onto the plate. “Our breakfast is waiting in the kitchen, as always.”

Ana nodded, kissing his cheek before carrying the plate away with a smile whilst saying, “Yes – and now so is Miss Carter’s!”

“She’s not going to like that,” he warned her. “Not after you wrapped yourself around her like you did all of last night.”

Undeterred, she returned to Mr. Stark’s table and picked up Miss Carter’s cup and silverware, declaring, “While she’s asleep, she’s just as apt to touch and hug as I am, if last night was anything to go by.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yes!”

“You’ve said the same thing about me, though,” he pointed out skeptically. “And I’m still not sure I… well, that I entirely believe you.”

“Are you accusing me of spreading _lies_ , Mr. Jarvis?” she asked, wide and dramatic eyes feigning hurt.

“Not ‘lies,’” he replied carefully, being entirely truthful. “Just, perhaps… _exaggerations._ ”

Ana giggled, perfectly unbothered and confident in her view of things as she said gaily, “You’ll see…”

“See what?” he asked. Satisfied that the breakfast table was properly set, he followed her as she went back into the kitchen. Dryly, he asked, “Am I going to regret agreeing to follow your lead in this?”

From the doorway, Mr. Stark suddenly asked, “’Follow her lead in’ what, Jarvis?”

Edwin whipped around to face his employer, crisply fibbing, “Life in general, sir.”

Mr. Stark shot a fond, nearly fraternal look in Ana’s direction, saying, “Sounds like a good plan. Crazy as she is, this one keeps you sane, I think.”

“Oh, I _know_ she does,” Edwin agreed. Ana grinned at the half-praise, turning to make tea for her and Edwin as the butler told Mr. Stark, “Your breakfast is on the table already, sir.”

His employer waved away the idea. “No time, Jarvis; there’s something in the lab that-“

“There is _always_ ‘something in the lab’ with you,” Miss Carter broke in, calling the words out as she approached the kitchen doorway where Mr. Stark stood. Once there, she raised an eyebrow at the genius, inquiring, “Am I correct in thinking that you didn’t eat breakfast yesterday morning?”

Mr. Stark didn’t answer, so Edwin replied for him, “You are.”

Miss Carter nodded, then took hold of Mr. Stark’s shoulders, bodily steering him to his breakfast table. “Sit and eat. Look at this; a lot of work goes into preparing this! You are going to sit here, behave, eat, and appreciate it.”

Dutifully, Mr. Stark dropped into a chair and reached for the coffee pot. Satisfied, Miss Carter looked around the table, her brow creasing with confusion before she made her way back to the kitchen.

“Thank you for that,” Ana murmured, low enough that Mr. Stark couldn’t hear in the next room.

Edwin was not yet convinced, muttering, “Don’t get excited yet. Just wait a minute.” _Hold on… maybe he could even get her to…_ “As a matter of fact,” he added, pulling out the third chair that Ana had added to the kitchen table at some point this morning. “Sit down and watch.”

Looking curious, Miss Carter did as he suggested without a second thought, still watching Mr. Stark through the doorway.

Edwin watched, too, as Ana sat down at the table across from Miss Carter with teapot in hand. As he had expected him to, Mr.  Stark poured himself a cup of coffee, and absolutely _saturated_ it with sugar. _Then_ he picked up the coffee pot, balanced his cup and the sugar container in his other hand, and trekked straight down to his lab with his caffeinated spoils.

Miss Carter gaped, oh so innocently aghast at Mr. Stark’s actions. “Seriously?” she asked, swinging her gaze to Edwin. “That’s ridiculous – and rude!”

“Because those aren’t words used to describe Mr. Stark on a daily basis?” he quipped dryly.

He considered his employer to be his _friend,_ as well, but he was no longer under any illusions as to what Howard Stark was, or what he could do. They had known each other for far too long for that.

Apparently Miss Carter could say something like that, too, because she seemed to consider his remark, and then shrugged. “Howard will be Howard, I suppose.”

“And the only thing predictable about Howard Stark,” Ana chimed in. “Is his…” she trailed off after a moment with a wave of her hand, apparently at a loss for words.

“…Ridiculousness?” Miss Carter suggested with a grin.

“Yes,” Ana nodded, letting out one of the little giggles that were so frequently heard throughout the mansion.

Special Agent Peggy Carter froze at the kitchen table, smiling as she looked at Ana with wonder shining clearly in her eyes.

Edwin looked on in amusement, very carefully _not_ choking on his tea. He loved his wife more than life itself, but he simply could not understand how they _both_ had managed to miss what that look meant. It was as plain as the nose on his face!

Ana must’ve recognized the expression from somewhere, though, because Edwin got the impression she was quoting something as she asked Miss Carter curiously, wearing a smile of her own, “What’s that look for?”

Miss Carter flushed lightly, looking down at the table quickly as she just as rapidly replied, “Oh! Nothing. It’s… It’s nothing.”

The brunette took a napkin from the table and began twisting it in her lap, granting it far more attention than was necessary. Thus Ana was left staring at Miss Carter’s forehead, and Edwin _saw_ the moment it all clicked behind his wife’s eyes, the moment she realized for herself what he had concluded not an hour ago.

She looked at him, her eyes wide, surprised, and hesitantly excited. He smiled serenely back at her, his own excitement and just a _bit_ of “I told you so” glinting in his gaze.

“Where’s my plate?”

The strange, sudden question from Miss Carter made both Jarvises look at her in utter confusion, and Edwin asked, “I beg your pardon?”

“My breakfast dishes – usually there’s two setting here in the kitchen – for the two of you – and two in the next room over – for Howard and I.”

Edwin pointed to the place setting right in front of her – the one Ana had set for her – and drawled, “You will observe…”

“Why?” she asked suddenly, a little peevishly.

He paused at Miss Carter’s tone, so it was Ana who countered innocently, “Why not?”

Miss Carter turned her gaze to Ana, her eyes turbulently dark and calculating. Edwin saw her jaw work for a moment, and he tensed, wondering if the agent was going to start shouting. However, just as quickly as her eyes had sparked, they cooled, turning nearly apologetic as she said, “Yes, of course; it’s silly for me to eat alone, anyway, I suppose.”

“Exactly!” Ana replied brightly, smiling back at her as the moment passed.

The rest of the meal passed in relative ease, though there was the slightest undercurrent of _something,_ mainly from Miss Carter. He was willing to bet a month’s pay that it was because she didn’t know what to do with the fact that Ana had spent the night in her bed.

_Well, he was going to ensure that he gave her the chance to talk about it._

 When breakfast was over, Ana stood and began to clear the table, and, sensing that Miss Carter about to take her leave, Edwin dashed down into the lab. “Sir, I believe I’m going to drive Miss Carter into work.”

“Fine.” His employer didn’t even look away from the equation on the chalkboard as he waved the butler away. “Go on, Jarvis – as long as lunch is on time.”

“Of course, sir.” He nodded, knowing the gesture wouldn’t be noticed, and then hurried back to the kitchen, hoping Miss Carter hadn’t already managed to make a hasty exit.


	11. Chapter 11

As Mr. Jarvis disappeared from the kitchen, Peggy stood from the table and, feeling it was only polite to do so, awkwardly offered, “Mrs. Jarvis, what can I do to help you?”

Ana – in Peggy’s mind, she’d somehow always been “Ana,” though she always _said_ “Mrs. Jarvis” to her face – turned to her with a look of surprise on her face. “Ah…” the redhead glanced at the table. “There’s a rag on the sink, if you’d like to wash off the table?”

Peggy nodded, still feeling rather awkward even as she moved towards the sink to do as Ana had suggested. She felt she needed to say something – to address the way they had spent the night – but she had no idea how to bring it up.

She began to try anyway. “Mrs. Jarvis?”

Standing across the table from her again, eyes wide and innocent with a milk bottle in one hand and the teapot in the other, Ana replied, “Miss Carter?”

Peggy searched her eyes, trying to find the words to say, trying to decide what exactly she wanted to say in the first place. _How_ did _she want to word this?_ But she found that words in general seemed to be alluding her, and in the end she only said very sincerely, “Mrs. Jarvis, you are _fantastic_.”

Ana smiled tenderly, as if she’d somehow managed to hear everything that Peggy hadn’t been able to vocalize, and replied simply, “So are you, Miss Carter.”

Peggy smiled carefully, determined not to let Ana fluster her – not this time, not again, not with such stupid effortlessness. She opened her mouth, also determined to say what she felt she needed to, despite having no idea how to word _that_ , either. They _had_ to discuss last night’s sleeping arrangements – _didn’t they?_

But before she could say anything, Mr. Jarvis hurried back into the room, releasing a relieved sigh when he laid eyes on her. “Oh, good, you’re still here!”

Peggy raised an eyebrow at him, feeling inwardly very relieved in her own right at the distraction his presence provided from the impending conversation with Ana. “Yes, I’m here.”

“Yes, well.” He straightened resolutely, realizing that she wanted some sort of explanation, or at least more information. “Are you ready to go into work? I’m driving you.”

His expression was set with faint but obvious lines of determination, and she stopped for a moment to wonder _Why?_ And suddenly it hit her… _Surely he didn’t think something had… had_ happened _with Ana last night, did he? Was he angry with her over it all? Well,_ that _would need to be patched up too, then, wouldn’t it?_

With that thought in mind, where yesterday she would have put up a fight of some kind, today she just said, “All right.”

By now done washing off the table, she laid the rag back in the sink and turned to Ana, her expression wordlessly asking if her assistance was still needed. The redhead smiled and nodded her dismissal, and Mr. Jarvis held Peggy’s hat out to her – apparently he’d retrieved it before returning to the kitchen.

“Oh, how thoughtful; thank you,” she said lightly, taking it and putting it on.

He smiled, just a bit dryly around the edges, and remarked, “An ideal butler provides service without being asked.”

“Indeed,” Peggy rolled her eyes outright – only to turn her head away entirely when the man turned and kissed his wife on the cheek while they were standing perhaps a mere foot form her.

“Have a good day, darling,” he said casually, and to Peggy’s ears it sounded very much like a daily routine in action.

Ana smiled sweetly up at him, replying, “And you.” Then, the next thing Peggy knew, warm lips pressed against _her_ cheek for a moment, and the redhead said lightly, “You have a good day as well, love.”

Peggy’s eyes widened instantaneously, gaze snapping to Ana with shocked surprise written across her face. Ana smiled, bright and innocent, at her, and Peggy looked towards Mr. Jarvis instead. He shrugged as if he couldn’t care less – _and maybe he didn’t, after all?_ In all honesty, he looked to be torn between amusement and… _boredom. That_ was the face of adoring exasperation, a man who had long given up trying to predict the unpredictable, and had decided to love the ride he was taken on instead.

In other words, he was going to be no help to Peggy, more than likely.

_Brilliant._

Finding her voice again, Peggy stammered in Ana’s general direction, “Yes, well, the same to you.” She was inordinately  relieved to turn to Mr. Jarvis then and say firmly, “Time to go to work.”

She pointedly ignored the smile he was tamping down as he nodded and replied, “Yes, of course.”

* * *

 

Miss Carter’s valued silence lasted about five seconds once they were in the car before she blurted out, “She amuses you, doesn’t she?”

An easy question with an immediate answer. “Yes.” But Edwin couldn’t help adding, “But the two of you together are even more amusing.”

“Why?!”

He took a moment to note her tone – _flustered, but not irate, which was good_ – before he replied evenly, “Because you have no idea how to handle her.”

“Clearly neither do you!”

He arched an eyebrow, calling her out dryly, “ _Surely_ you are not suggesting that I should try to _control_ my wife?”

She stifled a groan, raising a hand to her forehead. “She’s ridiculous!”

“She _cares_ ,” he corrected gently.

Miss Carter went still, and even in his periphery he could nearly _see_ her train of thought shift. “Mr. Jarvis,” she began hesitantly, “Are you… angry with me?”

Of all the questions he had expected, of all the thoughts he’d suspected she might be considering, that hadn’t even crossed his mind. “What?” he asked in confusion. “Why would I be _angry_ with you?” _Of all the…_

“It’s just… that is,” he wasn’t sure he’d ever heard her stammer quite so much. “Last night, overnight, with what Ana—”

 _Ah_. All at once, he realized what she was getting at, and cut her off, deciding it just might be the most merciful thing to do. “ _Ana_ ,” he repeated emphatically. He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, a fond, wry smile at the edges of his mouth even as his tone remained serious and steady. “What _Ana_ did is exactly that. What _Ana_ did. You said it yourself, Miss Carter: Ana cannot… be _controlled_. Entire _regimes_ have tried to tell her what to do, and she’s fought back. Ana does what Ana wants to do when Ana wants to do it, and there’s very little that’s going to stop her once she has something in mind. And what she had in mind last night was helping you. How – _why on earth_ – would I be angry with her for that? I’m not angry that Ana shared a bed with you, no.”

 


	12. Chapter 12

Miss Carter looked at Edwin for moment, silent and calculating behind her sunglasses, before she asked worriedly, “Are you angry with Ana?”

Incredulously, he repeated, “Am I—!” He had the sudden urge to pull off the road, park, and _talk_ to her about this. He had to remind himself that she had to be at work, and he didn’t want to raise her suspicions anyway. He pulled in a breath, glancing at her with what he hoped was a reassuring, if small, smile. “ _No_.” he promised, his tone firm even though it was much calmer, steadier. “I am not angry with Ana, nor am I angry with you. I am not angry at all, about any of it.” Maybe it was counter-productive, in a way, to this new goal he and Ana had, to say what was coming to mind, but there was something about his wife that he thought Miss Carter deserved to understand – _or perhaps be_ forewarned _about._

“When I told you that ‘she hugs,’ I was… abridging. Ana is easily one of the most tactile people I have ever met. When we… first came to America,” _he wanted to try avoiding the reminder of the fact that he and Ana were meant to be legally in a monogamous marriage._ “Our language barrier was terrible. We talked, of course, but it could take a mixture of three languages to get a single sentence across.” He took another deep breath before continuing solemnly, “And yet, at the same time, almost nightly she was… _plagued_ by _terrible_ nightmares.” Swallowing roughly, he pushed away particular memories coming to mind and focused on his point on bringing this up. “We both had nightmares, really, about different things, but she… she would become so upset that she couldn’t even understand what little I managed to try and say to her. Whenever she woke, to begin with, she would have to calm down at least a little before speaking was worthwhile for either of us. So… the only way she could be comforted during those awful nights was _touch_. She wanted to be held, to feel a heartbeat beneath her hand, to be grounded to a living person. Touch became more than a pleasure; it became a nearly _necessary_ comfort when she needed it the most.

“That’s why she came to your bed, Miss Carter, because when she doesn’t know exactly what to say to comfort someone, she reaches out to them. She reached out to you because she _cares_ about you.” He smiled gently at her as he asked softly, “Why would I be angry about that?”

She looked thoroughly caught off-guard – speechless, actually.

“Miss Carter?” he asked worriedly. “Are you all right? Was that – I said too much, somehow, didn’t I? W—”

Suddenly, faintly, she asked, “Ana?”

“I beg your pardon?”

She blinked, shaking her head as if to clear it, and he watched her push away whatever she was thinking and pull herself back together. Whatever she was thinking, she wasn’t going to voice it now.

The rest of the ride passed in silence as both of them tried to puzzle out what was on her mind.

When he parked in front of the theatrical agency, she got out of the car – _he had given up trying to open her car door for her_ –and came around to his side. Obligingly, he cranked down the window, and she said, “Thank you for driving me.”

“Of course,” he answered, a bit surprised – until she added:

“And, Mr. Jarvis, thank you for… explaining to me about Ana.”

_Oh._

_Was that what had unnerved her so terribly? Why?_

Softer, he repeated, “Of course.”

Then she straightened and stepped back from the car, and he drove away, leaving them both to their work and their thoughts.

* * *

And she had more than enough to think about, thanks to what Mr. Jarvis had said during their drive.

She understood that she had taken away from the conversation something very different from what he had meant to impart, although she did comprehend his point as well.

But the struggles that he had described, the relationship between himself and Ana – and what did all of this imply about Ana herself? What had she seen and been through, exactly? And _where_ was the evidence of any of it? And what of _Mr_. Jarvis – the man that she considered one of her very closest friends – did he nightmares as well? Even now?

In one monologue, he had unknowingly opened her eyes to the truth behind what she had seen as an idyllic relationship – the perfect married couple.

If the Jarvises were living anything resembling a “happily ever after,” it sounded like that was only because they’d already slain their dragons. And as much as she admired them all the more for that, it was also a sharp reminder that they very much belonged together; she and her brokenness shouldn’t chance… getting in between them in any way, regardless of how or what that might come to mean.

She had come up with numerous questions for the Jarvises throughout her work day, but only one conclusion, which was this:

She needed to distance herself from them, at least a little. She couldn’t make her intentions obvious, though – she had a feeling that would upset them no matter how logical of an explanation she gave – but it had to be done nonetheless.

Regardless of her resolve, there was one question she hadn’t managed to shove out of her mind by the time Mr. Jarvis came to pick her up for the day. She didn’t ask it, though, not at first.

Instead Mr. Jarvis surveyed her as she climbed into the car, seemed to decide it was safe, and asked, “Did you have a good day?”

“Not a _bad_ one, just boring; there were a lot of reports involved.” _And too much time to think._

He shot her a sympathetic smile, commenting, “Maybe tomorrow, I could do the boring reports, and you could do the tedious cleaning at the mansion?”

“But what if tomorrow is the day I get _another_ case on top of Chief Thompson’s?” His smile widened, and she chuckled before pointing out, “I doubt that Ana would appreciate that plan.”

The wind left his sails, as it were, as he pulled out onto the road. “Likely not. Though she wouldn’t mind being able to spend more time with you.”


	13. Chapter 13

Peggy had to stifle a sigh suddenly. Catching the shift in her mood, her driver let the subject drop and let silence descend until Peggy very quietly asked the one question she hadn’t been able to escape, “Do you or Ana still have nightmares?”

She knew she did, from time to time, though – until recently – not with the frequency that she once had.

He was quiet for a moment, but it was a very telling silence, before he nodded and said gravely, “Yes.” He heaved a deep sigh, and she marveled for an instant at what a _tone_ a sigh could have. In this case, it showed that he felt weighted and helpless. “It took about a year after we fled Budapest for the worst of her nightmares to stop, but now they’re here again, brought on by Miss Frost.”

“She recalls in her sleep what she can’t bring herself to think about during the day,” Peggy realized softly, and it was a terrible thought. She understood it on a personal level, yes, but the idea that this was what sweet little Ana was going through… That she almost couldn’t fathom.

“Exactly.”

His voice was quiet, hard and pained, and Peggy looked at him as she asked, “What about you?”

“What about me?” he inquired, sounding a bit surprised.

She wasn’t fooled. She knew evasion when she saw it. “Surely you… have nightmares as well.”

He was quiet and still again, but his eyes burned with intensity as he said softly, “You were right there beside me; you saw what I saw. We were close enough to see the shooting happen, but too far away to help, and if that isn’t the perfect fodder for nightmares, I don’t know what is.”

“You’re right,” she murmured before saying, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“No,” he shook his head, clearing it at the same time, if the look in his eye was any indication. His tone lightened. “It’s a valid question, especially if she’s to invade your bed again.”

Peggy’s eyebrows flew up, her thoughts turning elsewhere as she asked, “Do you think she will?”

There was another fond shake of his head as he replied, “Heaven only knows.”

“You know,” she remarked dryly, quickly sidetracking the conversation again. “I seriously doubt that she could ‘invade’ my bed if I was truly willing to fight her about it.”

He flushed, and, on an apparent second thought, rolled his eyes. Then he asked curiously, “Have you ever fought Ana, physically or verbally? Never mind which, actually; it likely doesn’t matter. Have you fought her?”

“Ah…” _What a strange question!_ “No, I can’t say that I have.”

“Then you have no real idea what she happens to be capable of.” That was spoken as a simple statement of fact.

“Verbally or physically, do you mean?” she asked, the idea that Ana might beat her in a physical fight bringing an amused smile to her lips.

But he considered the question with relative seriousness. “She’s certainly best at verbal sparring, but I’ve told you that she’s been my sparring partner in hand-to-hand as well, and I’ve found her to be surprisingly adept.”

“Really?”

He grinned. “Yes, really.”

“But how – and why – would she know all of that?”

He hummed under his breath before remarking, “You haven’t given much thought to where Ana comes from, have you?”

“Budapest. A Jew in eastern Europe.” _How_ had _that not fully hit her until just now? Ana couldn’t be_ just _“sweet little Ana” and still be alive, more than likely, could she? She’d lived in a warzone and likely seen terrible things._ “Oh. Oh, yes. I see.”

“No,” he whispered. “You don’t – not the persecution, not first-hand like she did – and neither do I. We should both be extremely grateful. I meant it when I said she was far stronger than I could ever be.”

“I still say you’re stronger than you think you are.”

He smiled like he knew it wouldn’t be worth it to disagree and allowed, “Perhaps.”

But it wasn’t enough to truly turn her thoughts from the subject that was really at hand, and she lapsed into a thoughtful silence for a minute before she asked hesitantly, “Is she, in private, I suppose, really anything like what she appears to be?” _Not that it was any of her business,_ she thought a second too late.

“That’s the amazing thing,” Mr. Jarvis replied without a second thought, his tone soft and adoring at the mere thought of his wife. _And she truly didn’t blame him_. “She is _exactly_ as lovely and optimistic and compassionate as she appears to be.”

Peggy’s eyebrows drew together as she tried to sort through all the information she’d been given, and she found herself prompting him, “’But’ what…?”

“But,” he was speaking slower again as he tried to explain. “She is also the type of person who will naturally wait until she is alone to cry. She doesn’t want to ‘ _burden_ ’ anyone with her emotions… or, more accurately, with _negative_ emotions.” His eyes cut to her as he remarked dryly, “Rather like someone else I know, now that I think about it.”

“She sounds like her husband,” Peggy shot back.

He rolled his eyes. “I think I resent that.”

“I think you resemble that.”

“Actually, I know I resent that. I don’t deserve such an accusation.”

“Why on earth wouldn’t you?” Peggy asked teasingly, thinking gladly that they had left solemn thoughts behind them. “We both know that you’re reserved.”

“I am reserved in a general sense,” he agreed. “But not necessarily with my emotions. You’ve seen me happy, frustrated, angry… even crying, and yet I don’t know that you’ve ever seen me when I wasn’t wearing a tie. Do you see the difference there?”

“I see the difference, yes, but, for the record, I have seen you without a tie – _twice_.”

 He smirked, commenting, “And yet I’ve never seen you truly shed a tear – you’ve come close _twice_ – but you’ve never actually been relaxed enough in my presence to _do_ it.”

“It’s not that,” she objected quickly, disliking his wording. “It’s that I don’t want…” Then she realized what she’d been about to say and finished grudgingly, “To… bother… you.”

His strange little smirk was back again, but there was something inexplicably sad at the edges of it as he said, “Exactly.”

“Well, I’m obviously different from Ana!”

“How so?”

She looked at him as if he’d lost his mind, and then pointed out the obvious. “She’s your wife, and you love her.”

He glanced at her once, then again, his eyes unnervingly unreadable before he said lightly, “Of course I love her.” They went two complete miles in silence before he said carefully, “I care for you, too, Miss Carter.”

Internally, she was startled at his bluntness, but after a moment, she said simply, “That’s different.”

_Of course it was!_

He said nothing more, and Peggy was unusually relieved to see the mansion coming into view a couple of minutes later. She fled the car before it was even drawn to a complete stop, and nearly ran into Ana, she was in such a hurry to get to the safe solitude of her bedroom.

For the life of her, she couldn’t understand what had gotten into the Jarvises today, and she felt that she needed more time to try and sort it all out.


	14. Chapter 14

Ana got all of one passing glimpse of Peggy as the woman hurried past her in the hallway, but she looked so… _bewildered_ that one glimpse was enough to make her seek out Edwin for an explanation. _Assuming he would have one, that was…_

She met her husband on the edge of Mr. Stark’s car lot after he had just finished parking the car he’d picked Peggy up in.

_So Peggy really had been moving quickly since getting home._

“Darling,” Edwin smiled at the sight of her, quickening his pace to get to her, so that he could give her a kiss. “I was just coming to find you.”

Their day had started out with something outside of their usual routine, and it had stayed that way. She’d been in town most of the day while he’d been at the mansion for the most part, and their paths simply had not crossed since breakfast.

“I missed you,” he informed her, dropping a second kiss onto the top of her head.

She smiled up at him, nodding a wordless agreement, and rested her hands on his chest.

His demeanor  changed ever so slightly as he realized she was a woman on a mission; he settled his feet on the ground, locked his fingers together at the small of her back, and raised one eyebrow expectantly. “Is there something you need, my dear?”

“Not exactly, but…” She felt like she’d asked him this question quite frequently of late, but he was still her best source for an honest answer, at least for the time being. “Is Peggy all right?”

He sighed – _never a good sign_ – and replied carefully, “I think I may have pushed – just a little.”

She arched her eyebrows in surprise, only to gently nudge his chest when she noticed he was still debating saying something more. “What else?” she demanded lightly.

Just as lightly, as if to make less of it than he should, he replied, “We talked a bout you.”

“Me?”

“M-hm.”

She eyed him, asking, “What about me?”

He grinned – just a bit too brightly, and a bit too at odds with his expression from a second ago. “Absolutely everything.”

She tilted her head to the side, studying him as she let him note the way she swallowed a sigh.

Edwin let the attempted façade drop away and gave her the honest answer – one he was afraid would concern her, apparently. “Darling,” he remarked. “By all appearances, you completely unnerved her last night. She asked if I was upset with her or you, and I assured her I, of course, was not.”

“She thought you might be upset because of how I spent the night?”

The incredulous, baffled expression on her face coaxed a small smile from him as he nodded and continued his explanation. “So I felt it best to try and explain to her… _why_ you did it – not _necessarily_ because of an ulterior motive –” _Though he suspected that might be changing._ “– But because it’s… something you know helps – the _tactility_ , I mean.”

“Edwin,” Ana pointed out gently. “You’re still not saying everything. Tell me – plainly, please – what it is you told her.”

He looked worried, and a little… apprehensive, as he drew in a breath through his nose before admitting, “I told her about our first year together, to explain _why_ you did what you did, and I told her about… our having nightmares, both then and now again.”

“And you think,” Vaguely Ana began to understand as she hazarded, “That I’d be upset… with you… because you… what, precisely? Shattered whatever image and assumptions she had or has about me?”

He shrugged, still looking thoughtful. “Partly, yes.”

She shook her head, tracing the pattern on his tie absently, following her fingertip with her gaze as she mused softly, “That’s the… hard thing about relationships, isn’t it? It’s not just that we want her to… learn to trust us with _her_ hard days, it’s also that we must trust her with ours. Both from the past and in the present. It seems only fair. So, no, my darling, I am not angry with you.” She smiled softly up at him as the thought occurred to her and she remarked, “You’re nearly as silly as Miss Carter for being afraid of such a thing.”

He raised his eyebrows, as if tempted to object, but then seemed to reconsider before he conceded, “Perhaps. I simply didn’t want to worry you any more than I wanted to anger you.”

“You’ve done neither, Mr. Jarvis,” she promised before crooking her finger, asking him wordlessly to lower his head to her level. He laughed affectionately – as he always did – and obliged her – as he always did – giving her the kiss she desired. Thus that conversation ended, and she asked him, “Should I go… check on Miss Carter?”

“You’re asking for my opinion?”

“Of course.”

“Well, I would, I’m afraid, advise you once again to give her space… if just for for a little while. Let her think; give her a chance to sort out her thoughts about everything.”

“Everything?” Ana repeated curiously.

“She has a lot on her mind, I’m sure, and she’s used to being alone enough to be able to work through it… well, _alone_.”

Ana frowned. She _hated_ leaving suffering people alone, and they both knew it, but in this case, she had to agree that Edwin had a point. “Very well,” she agreed. “I’ll leave her be for now.”

“Until when?” he asked suspiciously, eyes narrowed upon her.

“You look as if you don’t trust me, my husband,” she observed with a teasing smile.

“I’m not untrusting, just dubious.”

“As am I about certain things,” she confessed.

He seemed surprised as he double-checked, “You mean in this with Miss Carter?”

“Yes.”

“Why? What makes you nervous about it?”

She shrugged. “I want to pursue this – I do –” _If nothing else, for you_ , though she knew there really was _something_ more to it. “But I’m not certain what I want from it yet, not exactly.”

“Then take time to figure it out,” he advised simply.

She hummed thoughtfully, looking back up at him while not directly meeting his eyes. Thinking. “We will see.”

“Shall,” he corrected absently, trying to understand what was going on inside her beautiful head. “’We _shall_ see,’ darling.”

She smiled fully at him, extricating herself from his arms and heading back towards the house. “Yes, we shall.”

“You’re going to be the absolute death of me, aren’t you, Mrs. Jarvis?” he called dramatically after her.

Her laughter floated back to him across the yard. “At least you’ll die happy!”


	15. Chapter 15

Howard emerged from the lab that evening with thundering steps as he called boisterously, “Jarvis, I’m starving!”

Peggy came into the dining room from the opposite door, snipping primly, “Well, perhaps if you ate breakfast like a normal grown adult…”

As he exited the dining room, Jarvis arched once eyebrow at her and very pointedly did not call her out on her hypocrisy. He had seen her skip more than one meal whilst she was on a case, and they both knew it.

 _Speaking of which…_ Peggy couldn’t help but wonder just _where_ she was going to find her place setting. The Jarvis’s had left her alone for the evening – Ana having just now retrieved her quickly for supper – but she wasn’t quite willing to put anything past them at the moment. Especially if she was right about the admittedly _ludicrous_ thought that she’d puzzled out regarding their unusual behavior today.

Checking covertly, she was inordinately relieved to find her dishes in the dining room alongside Howard’s.

_Maybe she was safe for the evening…_

_Or not._

She was back in the – perhaps increasingly _relative_ – safety of her own bedroom for the night when someone knocked on the room’s door.  “Who is it?” she asked, a little wary but making sure that didn’t come through in her tone. The door opened, and light steps brought Ana into view. Peggy resisted the urge to point out her words had not been an invitation. She was wary, and quite frankly a little terrified, and it was making her peevish.

Seeing what she was doing, Ana, already in her gown and robe, came further into the room and picked up Peggy’s last curler. Peggy let her affix it and waited until Ana stepped back to view the whole affect before she spoke. “What are you doing?”

Ana sat on the edge of the bed. “Coming to bed.”

“Your room is one door down, Mrs. Jarvis,” Peggy reminded her, tone light and firm all at once as she turned on the vanity to face Ana.

The redhead cocked her head to the side, staring intently for a moment before she blinked and asked, soft and openly inquisitive, “Do you want me to not be here?”

“You should be with your husband!” Peggy declared, her tone filled with an exasperation she wasn’t sure she felt.

“My husband will find me if my husband wants me,” Ana replied with an airy certainty.

“Mrs. Jarvis…” _Do not call her Ana to her face,_ Peggy reminded herself. Right now, that difference in titles felt like one of the last bricks in a barrier that was disappearing at an alarmingly rapid speed.

She couldn’t figure out how she felt about that.

“Yes?” in an innocent, expectant tone.

 _Too innocent._ Peggy drew in a deep breath, momentarily letting her eyelids flutter closed. _Do you want me to not be here?_ There was something butchered within the structure of that question, wasn’t there? But she couldn’t care less. She understood the question… she just didn’t know how to answer it.

As Peggy sat there with her eyes closed, Ana spoke, softer and steady, more serious this time. “If you ask me to leave, if you tell me you don’t want me here, I will go. I do not want to… force something upon you that you do not want.”

 _What_ did _she want? What did_ either _of them want?_

She asked her, knowing she sounded a little plaintive and confused. “What do you want?”

“To help. To be allowed to sleep beside my friend. Surely you’ve shared a bed before?”

That was a question meant to sidetrack… but Peggy allowed it, deciding she was too mentally and emotionally… tangled up to attempt doing anything else at this hour. “Of course I have. I’ve crawled into bed with my parents or brother as a child after I had a nightmare. I’ve… slept _with_ men, and beside them.” She smiled with weary, amused affection, adding, “Even Angie’s curled up beside me after a couple of particularly difficult missions, and she’s just stayed that way overnight.”

Ana narrowed her eyes thoughtfully for a split second before she moved around on the bed until she was lying on her back, head dangling off the bed as she looked at Peggy upside down. Peggy had to bite back a grin despite herself – until Ana asked carefully, “Have you ever heard the term ‘Boston marriage?’”

Seeing where _that_ alarming line of questioning was going, Peggy rapidly shook her head. “Angie and I are not that, I promise you, nor have we been, nor will we ever be.” Doing a double take of Ana as another alarming thought came to mind, she desperately wished she could tell _what in the world_ the other woman was thinking as she declared slowly, “Being with another woman like that, it doesn’t interest me.”

Ana suddenly relaxed so much she nearly slid further off of the bed. “Wonderful.”

“Why?” she asked, doing her best to keep her suspicion and growing panic from her tone. Surely her ridiculous thought regarding the Jarvis’s behavior wasn’t the actual truth of their motives!

“Because…” Ana floundered for a moment as she sat up once again. “Miss Martinelli would certainly make for an interesting wife, from what I’ve heard of her.”

Peggy didn’t particularly see how that related to any other part of their conversation, but she found herself more amused then anything and grinning dryly, relaxing enough that as Ana slid beneath the covers, she allowed herself to mentally throw her hands up in surrender and join her, asking, “Have you ever met Angie?”

  Ana shook her head, and before Peggy could even answer, Mr. Jarvis said from the open doorway, “They would burn the world to the ground together.”

His was a fond declaration, and so was Peggy’s as she corrected, “Paint the town, more like.”

“I told you he would come,” Ana murmured quietly enough that only Peggy could hear her change the subject.

“M-hm,” she hummed just as quietly before asking Mr. Jarvis, “Have you come to steal your wife away back to her proper bed?”


	16. Chapter 16

Before he could even formulate a response, Ana asked coyly, “What if I don’t want to move? I’m quite comfortable here.”

“You wouldn’t move even if I carried you?” he questioned.

To which Peggy raised an eyebrow and repeated, “’Carried her?’”

“Yes,” Ana nodded. “In the past, he did it all the time; it’s just not as frequent anymore.”

Mr. Jarvis made a thoughtful, displeased sort of sound that Peggy wasn’t quite sure how to translate. Ana must’ve understood, though, because she looked away from them both with darting eyes and a thin little frown.

“In the first year in particular,” Mr. Jarvis supplied for Peggy, “It was a way to simply be closer, and, like I mentioned earlier today, to quite literally hold onto one another.”

“Yes, I see.”

He changed the subject, arching a wary eyebrow at his wife as he asked Peggy, “Do _you_ mind her being here?”

Ana clutched at Peggy’s arm, her expression innocent and hopeful, and against her better judgement Peggy didn’t even want to try and get her to leave. She heaved an overly dramatic sigh that didn’t match her hesitant smile and said, “I suppose not.”

Jarvis nodded sharply, as if a decision had been made. “I suppose that answers that.” Moving to the end of the bed, as casually as you please, he requested of Ana, “Move over, please.”

Ana immediately tried to move to the far edge of the bed – and thereby drag Peggy into the middle.

“Oh, no, you don’t!” It was Peggy’s turn to clutch and tug, though she was surprised by the strength of Ana’s resistance – for the whole second that the redhead bothered with it. As the redhead settled into the middle of the bed, Peggy declared, “If you two have had some sort of… domestic, I will not be put in the middle, metaphorically or otherwise.”

“There’s been no domestic,” Mr. Jarvis assured her, carefully climbing into the bed on Ana’s other side.

This had all happened so suddenly, she wasn’t sure what to make of it, let alone how she ought to feel about it.

However, she did know that it was a tight fit for the three of them on the queen bed. Ana absolutely burrowed into Peggy to make room for her husband, and he, in turn, curled automatically around Ana. Peggy was startled when his arms managed to wrap around both women. _For the sake of space,_ she reminded herself firmly. Ana tangled her legs with Peggy’s, and the agent squeaked in surprise at the feeling of cold feet against her calves.

Jarvis chuckled warmly as he remarked knowingly, “Cold feet, warm heart.”

Peggy would’ve given a day’s pay to see his face at the moment, but he kept his profile hidden from her, first as he turned away to flip off the bedside lamp that was the only light in the room. As their surroundings were plunged into darkness, he put his arm back around her and Ana and buried his face in his wife’s red head.

“Good night, darling,” Ana spoke softly.

The voices of the married couple were warm in the darkness as Mr. Jarvis replied, “Good night.”

“Good night, _sweetheart_ ,” Ana said, and Peggy could hear the smile in her tone.

Peggy tucked her hands safely beneath her pillow, answering simply, “Good night.”

There was a beat of silence with a confusingly expectant air to it before Mr. Jarvis volunteered in a tone that Peggy couldn’t decipher, “Good night, love.”

To which Peggy dutifully repeated, “Good night.”

She heard him sigh in contentment, and Ana found her arm underneath the blankets, fingers trailing upwards until she realized where Peggy had hidden her hands. So Ana’s small hand stopped at her wrist, thumb resting gently against her pulse point.

The bed was crowded, and Ana’s feet were still cold against her ankles, yet Peggy found herself relaxing surprisingly quickly, as long as she didn’t think too much about what was happening.

For that matter: _What was happening?_

“You’re thinking loudly,” Ana mumbled accusingly into Peggy’s shoulder.

“Sorry, Ana.”

Ana squeezed her wrist, a sort of acknowledgement, and said, “Sleep, sweetheart.”

Peggy did, realizing that she had used Ana’s first name to her face only right before she dropped off to sleep.

* * *

_The car all but skidded around the last curve in Howard’s extensive driveway, just in time for the gun to go off. Ahead of them, Ana wilted to the ground._

“Wake up, love. Miss Carter. Peggy, wake up now. Edwin. Edwin, she’s having a nightmare.”

_Peggy’s world seemed to shake in that moment. Mr. Jarvis screamed with a mix of rage and terror as he jammed on the brakes._

“Miss Carter, come now, wake up. You’re dreaming and you need to wake up.” “Come back to us, my love.”

_Dottie laughed in the backseat as Mr. Jarvis ran to his wife and Peggy started to sprint after Mr. Manfretti’s car. He and Whitney Frost were still gone before she could do anything about it. She turned instead to look back at the Jarvises – a man kneeling over his wife, cradling her to him while he sobbed… because she was dead. Ana was dead._

_Peggy screamed too then, broken and afraid that she had tainted and destroyed one more beautiful thing in this world._

“ _No_!”

“Shhh, shh, shh.” There was a voice near her ear, steady and soft as she shifted, still more asleep then awake even as she wept.

Ana had been wounded, hurt – _shot_ – because she had been drawn too far into Peggy’s world, and in the process she’d hurt Mr. Jarvis as well. Ana had nearly died; the Jarvises would never have children. _Her fault, her fault._ “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Now, now, you’re alright. You’re safe now. It was only a dream, sweetheart. Come back. Don’t think about it. It was only a dream.”

There was a hand rubbing her back, a second one gently sweeping her hair out of her face, a third rubbing her arm, and the fourth cupping her cheek. Slowly Peggy was gaining real consciousness, enough to want to scream, _“No, it wasn’t a dream. It was real – very real and very my fault and I’m so sorry; I’m such a danger to you.”_


	17. Chapter 17

“Look at me.” Ana’s voice, a tender tone, the first request to really break through the haze over Peggy’s eyes and in her mind.

She blinked, only to come face to face with Ana, concern and care written plainly in her features even in the darkness of night as she hovered there beside her. But Peggy couldn’t –she just couldn’t look at her – not with the vision of her corpse still front and center in her mind. So she turned her head away… and into Mr. Jarvis’s chest?

_What?_

Vaguely she realized that the shifting she’d felt even in her dream world had been him moving her, sitting with her on the edge of the bed. The three of them were sitting on the edge of the bed… and he was holding her.

That, when paired with the conversation they’d had earlier in the day, hit her something like a truck, and made her stomach twist until she was nearly certain she was going to be sick.

_“The only way she could be comforted during those awful nights was touch. She wanted to be held, to feel a heartbeat beneath her hand, to be grounded to a living person.”_

_No._ This wasn’t right, she thought hazily. Her head still turned away from Ana and towards Mr. Jarvis, she muttered, “I’m not your wife.”

He hesitated before inquiring softly, “Your point?”

She was still tired, and too shaken to willingly do this with him at the moment. She didn’t want his vagueness, and so she was blunt. “You know my point; you’re treating me like you said you did Ana.”

This time the hand running up and down her back didn’t even pause before he said levelly, “It’s what _I_ know to do to help. Because, lo and behold, I _care_ enough to try and help you as well.”

Tired as she was, she felt something in their relationship trying to shift dangerously. “Mr. Jarvis,” she said, hoping her tone conveyed some sort of warning as her eyes fluttered closed in the darkness.

Ana’s face flashed behind her eyelids, agonized and lying on the asphalt. Peggy jarred, her eyes snapping open as she reached a hand out. She wasn’t sure what she was reaching _for_ until a little hand clasped around her own.

“It’s all right here,” Ana murmured – safe and sound and right there beside Peggy.

She shifted her hold on Ana’s hand until she could subtly take the redhead’s pulse, feel the proof of life directly beneath her fingertips. Ana didn’t appear to notice the change, but Mr. Jarvis tightened an arm minutely around her waist, drawing in a shallow breath before he asked cautiously, “Miss Carter… Peggy – what were you dreaming of?”

Once again, she was struck with the thought that she could – _should_ – remove herself from this situation… but she just couldn’t seem to make herself do it. She didn’t want to lose the physical connection to Ana just yet, for one thing, and though she didn’t even admit it to herself, this… _caring_ from Mr. Jarvis really was comforting.

“Peggy?” Ana asked, soft and expectant, and Peggy had one sharp, mean moment – completely at cross-purposes with the rest of her thoughts – of wishing she wasn’t there. In that case, in this strangely intimate moment, she _might_ have told Mr. Jarvis what she’d dreamed of.

As the three of them were, though, she turned her forehead into Mr. Jarvis’s chest and muttered, “Everyone around me dies.”

It took a second for either of the Jarvises to understand her cryptic reply, but then Ana asked gently, “In your dream… who died in your dream, Peggy?”

The brunette shook her head against Mr. Jarvis’s chest and pressed her thumb more firmly to Ana’s pulse point. “I’m sorry,” she whispered again.

She wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep, but she had the feeling that wouldn’t be happening for a while.

Mr. Jarvis apparently had all the evidence he needed to draw his conclusion. He moved carefully, as if he wasn’t’ sure she would allow him to do it, and repositioned her head with a gentle hand cupping her chin. She let him. She was tired, and emotionally drained, and she really did trust him explicitly. The sound of his steady heartbeat filled her ear.

_I’m not Ana; I’m not Ana; I’m not Ana._

But it really was comforting.

Leaning even closer to her, he whispered near her ear – he, too, must be considering Ana’s presence – “Ana’s shooting was not your fault.”

She snorted softly, giving her rebuttal well enough; she was afraid to use her voice and risk breaking whatever strange spell this was.

“It wasn’t,” he repeated firmly, his tone nearly fierce with conviction.

Peggy shrugged, reminding him softly, “Everyone around me dies.”

“But she didn’t,” he replied, his voice lowered and soft again. Absolutely he was doing it for Ana’s sake, then.

“But she will eventually.”

“Of course she will eventually. Everyone dies eventually.”

“I mean that _I_ will get her hurt again, Mr. Jarvis!”

“You take _far_ too much credit for things like this,” he said flatly, as if it were something he’d wanted to say for a long time. Likely he had.

“No, I don’t.”

His chest rose and fell as he took a deep breath at her stubborn belligerence. She moved to stand, hoping she had won that argument for now.

Mr. Jarvis dropped his arms from around her, willing to let her move if she wanted to. Ana’s hand, however, tightened on Peggy’s, and she looked down at the redhead in mild surprise.

“Sit down,” Ana ordered simply, her voice as calm as ever, but there was something in her eyes that Peggy had never seen before.

 It was the same passion that had been in Mr. Jarvis’s _tone_ ; that was the fire in Ana’s eyes.

Not sure what else to do in this highly unusual situation, she obeyed, slipping carefully back onto Mr. Jarvis’s lap.

_Dear lord, this was already going to change everything, wasn’t it?_

“You dreamed of my death, didn’t you?” Ana asked calmly.

Peggy tucked her cheek back against Mr. Jarvis’s chest, stayed silent, and pretended she wasn’t attempting to hide from this entire line of questioning. Over her head, Mr. Jarvis eventually nodded, giving her answer for her.

_Traitor._


	18. Chapter 18

“Hm.” Ana lifted Peggy’s hand, placing it over her heart. Beneath her hand, Ana’s heart beat steadily as the redhead asked, “Do you feel that?”

“Yes, of course,” Peggy murmured, all but a whisper in the darkness.

“So I am alive?”

“Of course.”

_Where was she going with this?_

Ana paused as if she wasn’t certain whether or not she wanted to ask her next question, and then: “Am I safe here?”

“Of course,” Peggy repeated, squeezing Ana’s hand reassuringly.

Ana raised her eyebrows, but Peggy got the feeling she couldn’t achieve the pointed expression she was aiming for as she asked, “Do you really believe that?”

Peggy saw two things at once – that Ana had purposely backed her into a corner to prove a point… but also that the same woman actually needed the reassurance whether or not she would admit it.

Edwin made a soft sound in the back of his throat, apparently seeing the same thing Peggy did, and he reached across Peggy to take Ana’s hand in his own. She smiled thinly at him before Peggy squeezed her hand again, promising solemnly, fiercely, “Ana, you are _safe_ here, encompassed by what are quite possibly two of the most protective Brits in the Americas.”

Ana chuckled suddenly, declaring, “I know that, believe me.”

“Good.” Thinking about something beside her own nightmare, Peggy found herself smiling dryly. Then she squealed suddenly, surprised when Edwin shifted her on his lap so that he could tug Ana nearer to himself and Peggy.

She came with a smile, snuggling up to them as she asked Peggy quietly, “Better, love?”

“As long as you are,” Peggy replied with a smile.

“Wonderful.”

“Perfect,” Edwin seconded, moving to press a kiss to the top of Ana’s head.

They all ignored the way Peggy stiffened with surprise when he did the same to her.

Before anyone could say anything else, Ana shifted and shoved Edwin onto his back on the bed. Peggy fell ungracefully back with him as he squawked his wife’s name.

Unruffled, Ana lay on Peggy’s opposite side and ordered softly, “Go to sleep, darlings.”

It was only by some miracle – at least according to Peggy – that Edwin and she actually managed to rapidly obey. All three of them were asleep in moments, even with their legs still draped off the edge of the bed.

* * *

“Good morning, you two!”

Peggy knew those words, and the singsong voice in which they were spoken. But even with her eyes still closed, she knew that happy voice didn’t belong in her bedroom, not this early in the morning. _And_ whose _arm was around her waist, exactly?_

Then the events of the previous night came rushing back to her, and she released a muffled groan, turning to bury her head in a… very warm – _that was_ not _a pillow!_

Mr. Jarvis’s arm was draped casually over her waist, though, and before she could move, she felt him shift. Air stirred above her, and then Ana gasped as a pillow was swung and hit her arm, He murmured something unrepeatable, half asleep even as he requested, “Let me sleep…”

“No,” Ana said brightly. _She was a morning person, wasn’t she? How awful for everyone concerned._ “The alarm you have set in our room went off a while ago, and Mr. Stark is going to want his breakfast soon enough. I let you both sleep as long as I thought I could; you make such an adorable pair, after all.”

Edwin moaned and grudgingly began to move from the bed. Totally unsure what to do, Peggy had yet to open her eyes, but she did so now as he stood up. “What then?” she asked, her voice sounding a little… cranky even to her own ears as she sat up. “Are we just going to pretend that this – and everything from last night – is perfectly normal?”

“It could be,” Ana said with a strange look in her eyes.

Panic flashed through Mr. Jarvis’s gaze before he suggested, “I believe that it might be easier to _perhaps_ pretend so, but at the very least I see no reason to make a…” he waved a vague hand. “A fuss over it.”

Peggy looked at him in disbelief, demanding, “And why not?!”

For a moment he looked caught between tenderness and longsuffering before he shrugged and said simply, “You clearly needed the comfort.”

_And they had given it… But surely it wasn’t that simple!_

There was a larger motive at play here, she was almost certain of it, but she couldn’t find the words to _tactfully_ ask what that motive might be. Instead she said wearily, “If you don’t mind, I’d like to change now.”

Both Edwin and Ana hesitated – they knew full well that she was creating space between herself and them, kicking them out, as it were – but after a moment they filed out one after the other. Peggy moved slowly, making the bed and dressing. Her thoughts and emotions were too jumbled for proper analyzation, yet she knew that the next thing she would have to do was go to breakfast – and Edwin and Ana would be in the kitchen.

However, at the same time, she did _not_ want this to… ruin things, to make things awkward between her and them. She was terrified that it would regardless.

_Simply don’t let it._

The thought came unbidden to mind, and her first instinct was to scoff at it.

_It couldn’t really be that simple, could it?_

Yet, wasn’t that rather like what Edwin claimed Ana did – handled her demons at night so she could ignore them more easily during the day? Could that same principle perhaps be applied here? It was worth a try, she decided, stepping into the hallway so that she could go to breakfast.

* * *

There was no explosion, not even any sharp-tongued questions or comments, when Peggy came into the kitchen, and for that much Ana was grateful. As if Peggy were determined to forget the entire events of the night had occurred, things felt almost – almost – unchanged. The air felt simultaneously charged with tension and an increased relaxation with being in one another’s space. It was a strange mixture, but one that Ana could understand – and quite willfully ignore, or at least work around and within.

Peggy came into the kitchen, and for the first time, Ana quickly drew her into the last of the breakfast preparations alongside herself and Edwin. Ana hadn’t expected the three of them to work so well together on such a mundane thing despite the underlying tension, and yet she was thrilled when they did. Peggy jumped right in with minimum direction – despite her insistence that she wasn’t a truly decent cook – and they managed to have things set out on the table a couple of minutes before Mr. Stark came into the dining room.

 _As if Peggy could be a perfect fit_ , Ana thought to herself with a small smile, watching as the agent absentmindedly strode into the dining room after Mr. Stark.

She felt surer of this idea – of this three-way relationship – than she had even an hour before.


	19. Chapter 19

Once breakfast was over, Peggy, bless her, fled the area, only to return a few minutes later with an irritated and baffled expression. “Have either of you seen my hat? It seems to have disappeared.”

Edwin shot Ana a conspiratorial glance, smiling serenely as he turned his gaze to Peggy and informed her, “It didn’t disappear; it was relocated so you were unable to leave without me.”

“Why?” Peggy asked warily.

“Because you appear to still need to discuss something, in my opinion, and sometimes you seem to talk the most when we are on the road.”

“There are a lot of ‘maybes’ in that sentence, Mr. Jarvis,” Peggy pointed out a bit testily.

To which Edwin gave her an outright caring look as he said gently, “I ought to do what I can to ultimately help, should I not?”

Peggy stared at him for a long, quiet moment with conflicting emotions swimming in her eyes, and Edwin stared unflinchingly, almost _compassionately_ , right back while Ana looked between them. Surprisingly, Peggy blinked first, shoulders lowering in something like surrender as she requested, “Can I have my hat, _please_ , Mr. Jarvis?”

There was a bite to her tone that Edwin easily ignored, though Ana caught the there and gone worry line between his eyebrows. “Of course.”

He slipped out, and in his absence Peggy looked to Ana with confusion now predominate in her dark eyes. “This is strange even for him, isn’t it?”

At her unexpected wording, Ana laughed before she could catch herself. “Perhaps, yes, in the way that he usually is with you.” Going from laughing to thoughtful to sincere, she added, “However, it is only because we care so much for you.”

There was a nearly plaintive note in Peggy’s tone as she posed the same question she had asked Edwin. “Why?”

Her smile growing absolutely loving, Ana stepped up to Peggy, cupping the agent’s face in her hands as she informed her, “Because you, Margaret Carter, are _fantastic_.”

Peggy blinked, turning her head out of Ana’s gentle grasp – just in time for Edwin to clear his throat from the doorway. Looking into his azure eyes, Peggy had expected to see some sort of awkwardness there, or bewilderment. But there was nothing of the sort in his gaze… only breath-taking, whole-hearted adoration and affection.

_Yet it was the way he always looked at her._

The thought – the _realization_ – came unbidden to her mind, and she looked away again, blinking in confusion because _Surely not_. Remembering her declaration to Mr. Jarvis from a previous day, she reminded herself firmly that she and Ana were very different in the man’s eyes. He would not look at her the way he did Ana, of course not.

Feeling suddenly, inexplicably cranky at all of it, Peggy met Mr. Jarvis’s gaze again to ask firmly, “Ready?”

He held up his hat, which he had apparently gotten while retrieving hers. “Yes, of course.”

Ana – confounded, baffling woman that she was – kissed them _both_ on the cheek with a smile, and then Peggy and Jarvis were off to the theatrical agency. The moment they were alone in the car, Peggy found herself biting back the urge to – to _demand,_ really, what was supposed to be _going on_. Because  _clearly_ something was changing, and Peggy felt like the only one of the three who hadn’t been told of the alterations whilst still being expected to slip effortlessly into the dress. She didn’t say a word, though, and the ride to the SSR passed in silence that teetered on the edge of stiff.

Edwin gave her a concerned look as she climbed from the car, but she only gave him a quick thanks and bade him have a good day before she headed into the agency. Only later did she think to wonder if she ought to be grateful that he hadn’t tried to talk to her about what was bothering her. Clearly, that’s what he had _wanted_ to happen. But, really, how was she supposed to bring up her suspicions? And if she _was_ going to, she would honestly rather Ana be present as well.

 _However,_ Peggy told herself firmly, _there was time to consider that later._ Neither of the Jarvises were with her at work today, and her time would clearly be more productively spent focusing on _cases_.

And it took surprisingly little effort to do exactly that when Chief Sousa called her excitedly into his office in the middle of the day.

They had a lead on Jack’s shooter.

At the end of the day – after house of chasing an actual, physical _person_ they suspected of shooting him – they were only _slightly_ closer to _catching_ him. Even so, in the middle of her seething frustration, Peggy saw something else, something that soothed her mentally and emotionally more than she had expected it to.

She and Daniel could still work well together… almost as _friends_ once more. In the middle of their work, her one-track mind tendencies had come in quite handy. On that front, at least, she realized that she was going to be fine.

Which left only the Jarvises recent strange behavior to puzzle out. Daunting as it was, she had come to the conclusion that the best way to address it was head-on. She was going to march into that parlor this evening and ask them outright what they had in mind.

She just wished that she could know going in what was going to happen after that.

* * *

“Is there something wrong with your numbers, dear?” Ana asked, looking up from her sketchpad to find her husband glaring at their budget ledger.

“Pardon?” He looked over at her in surprise, only to shake his head when he realized what she was referencing. “Oh. No, it’s fine.”

She narrowed her eyes, asking then, “What are you thinking so hard about, then?”

His lips pinched into a thin line as he stood, unprompted, and moved to sit beside her on the loveseat. When he reached to card a hand through her hair only to encounter the usual pinned braids, he settled for toying with the loose curls at the base of her skull. Ana sat in silence, patiently letting him think through his reply. “I believe,” he said after a moment. “No, in fact I’m almost certain, that Miss Carter suspects us already.”

Ana raised her eyebrows, considering, but not really surprised. “Well, she _is_ Miss Carter; neither one of us _really_ expected her to stay unsuspicious for long… did we?”

She looked at him to gage his reply, and was happy to see her husband shake his head without hesitation. “No, of course not… but… so _soon_?”

Ana’s eyebrows flew upwards again – this time when Edwin’s rather bony chin fell onto her shoulder and he put his forehead to her temple with a sigh. He was clearly concerned about what this could mean. “Don’t fret about it, darling,” she cooed.

Only for both of them to give a start when Peggy asked from the doorway, “Is everything all right?”


	20. Chapter 20

“Oh, yes,” Ana answered immediately.

At the same time, Edwin seconded, “Of course,” just as quickly.

The agent didn’t appear particularly convinced, but in any case, she stepped further into the room, murmuring absently, “That’s good.” She was holding herself perfectly well, but Ana couldn’t help but think that her eyes told a different story. She was nervous, her eyes flickering this way and that before settling back on Edwin and Ana. Just as Ana was about to ask her if _she_ was “all right,” Peggy burst out, “What’s going on?”

“Come again?” Edwin asked. Ana felt him squeeze her hand nervously in his.

Peggy blinked, a frown tugging down the edges of her mouth as she turned the chair Edwin had vacated and sat down facing them. “You understand, I trust, that it is not… conventional for one to share a bed twice in a row directly… well, after a… separation.”

Ana grinned a bit, nearly in spite of herself, and replied, “Yes, but surely you understand that Edwin and I are both far from conventional.”

Peggy looked between Ana and Edwin, her gaze seeming more and more confused. “As individuals, perhaps you’re not, yes, but with regards to rel—”

She cut herself off as suddenly as she had started, and Ana cocked her head to the side curiously, ignoring Edwin’s tightening grip on her hand for the time being. “In regards to _relationships_?” the redhead probed gently.

Peggy’s tone and expression both turned absolutely pleading in the next moment as she repeated, “Ana, Mr. Jarvis, _what_ is going on?”

There was a beat of silence before Edwin told her nervously. “You could call me ‘Edwin,’ if you’d like.”

Peggy’s head fell suddenly into her hands, and Ana got the idea that some point had just been proven in the brunette’s mind. But when she lifted her head again, it was to point a finger at Ana and ask, “What are _you_ up to? You started this, so what do you want out of it? What are you trying to achieve?”

_Good questions. Pity she wasn’t even certain of all the answers yet._

“ _We_ ,” Ana answered. “Are… conducting an experiment of sorts.” Which wasn’t actually untrue. With minimal nudging, they had all three proven that Peggy could very well create her own niche, per se, for a closer relationship with both Edwin and Ana.

Now if only they could… present the situation so that Peggy saw the possibility too.

“What type of experiment?”

Edwin and Ana looked nervously at one another before the former took a breath, squared his shoulders, and laid out the truth for the agent. “Listen… Peggy,” he leaned towards her as he spoke haltingly and slowly so that he had ample time to consider his words. “Ana and I care very deeply for you – and if it’s not terribly presumptuous of us, I’d like to say that you care for us as well.”

“Of course,” Miss Carter – Peggy – agreed with a nod, nearly cutting him off even as her gaze bid him speedily get to his point.

 _He was like that, wasn’t he?_ Ana reflected for a second. _Patient during moments when both she and Peggy were not and perhaps ought to have been. It was a good match – Edwin and Peggy – in that way alongside many others_ , she thought with a small smile.

“Very recently we began to consider… _how_ exactly we care for you – how we _love_ you. Our ‘social’ experiment, if I could call it that, was – is – to see if and how you… how well you might fit… into mine and Ana’s relationship.”

“I…” Peggy appeared absolutely baffled by Edwin’s stammering. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“I love you!” Edwin burst out with a short laugh, as if he’d surprised himself with the bluntness of his own declaration. “Peggy, I’m _in_ love with you, and I would like very much to be able to show that!”

Peggy gaped at him, until her gaze swung around to Ana with nearly comedic slowness. At the actual fear in her eyes – of what the “crazy man’s” wife might do, Ana suspected – and if their conversation hadn’t been so… charged, Ana might’ve giggled at her expression. Instead, she kept her calm smile in place, wishing she could reach out and take Peggy’s hand as she informed her nearly conspiratorially, “I thought of it before Edwin. I saw it first, and I’m the one who brought it up with him, and I would be perfectly _thrilled_ if you would agree to this. To at least… attempting it, that is.”

“And what _precisely_ ,” Peggy asked carefully, “Is it that you would both like me to agree to ‘attempt?’”

Ana hummed, sharing a glance with Edwin as they both debated within themselves how best to word it so that she didn’t try to bolt before the conversation could reach a proper end. “Equal standing,” she finally replied simply.

Edwin tacked on the clarification, “Of a romantic nature.”

Peggy blinked, first at Edwin, then at Ana, but at least she appeared to be solemnly considering the idea. Ana only wished she could see _what_ Peggy was thinking about it. Then the agent said, “I see three immediate problems with this idea of yours.”

“What are those problems?” Edwin prompted.

“Well, for one thing, I just… that is, Chief Sousa and I just ended things between us!”

Edwin nodded slowly, and Ana could see the wheels turning behind his eyes. They each had their own thoughts on that matter, she knew, and she could tell that he was trying to find the right words to say to alongside his sometimes… indelicate thoughts about it. “There was a level of emotional attachment – if I may call it that – given to your relationship with him, and he hurt you; I understand that and I won’t downplay it. Not intentionally. But in the… grand scope of things… uncertain circling one another in New York tapering off to unanswered phone calls, then more circling in LA, and… and one night together –” Ana was fairly certain he’d just bit his tongue against calling it a one-night stand again – “Then his announcement of his salvaged engagement… One has to wonder if he’s _worth_ being so pained over.”


	21. Chapter 21

There was nothing but concern and hesitation in his wide blue eyes, like he was afraid Peggy would begin yelling at him, but her brown gaze merely turned thought and she stayed silent for a moment. Then she took a deep breath, straightening up again as she said, “Well, when you put it that way, you’re right, I suppose.”

“He generally is,” Ana said softly, trying to take a bit of the dreariness from the conversation.

To which Edwin replied, “You flatter me.”

Ana drew the conversation back to the broader topic at hand, suggesting gently, “Your second issue, Peggy?”

Peggy looked between the two of them again as she said, “Not to state the obvious, but you are married.”

“And could we not conduct our marriage as we’d like to?” Ana queried innocently. “Even to the point of making a place for you in it if the three of us would like to?”

Peggy stared at her for a moment, and Ana watched her eyes turn from thoughtful to warily considerate to hesitantly concerned. “Which brings me to my third point,” she began slowly without commenting on Ana’s question even while she carefully locked eyes with her. “Let’s say – hypothetically, of course – that I _was_ willing to try  this… how exactly… that is… you understand, An—”

“Peggy.” Seeing her stumbling a little desperately around what she was trying to say, Ana held up a hand as her own understanding did indeed dawn. “Love, is this about the conversation we had concerning Boston marriages?”

Relief flickered in the other woman’s face. “M-hm.”

“If I may, in my mind we’ve already discussed that point. I think I understand what you _don’t_ want, and now I think I can even say I understand what _I do_ want.”

“And what’s that?” Peggy asked, seeming as if she couldn’t decide whether to be scared or intrigued.

Ana would’ve given anything to be able to see into her mind at that moment, because from here it looked like she might actually be considering the idea.

“I saw it – really understood what I wanted – what you had your nightmare.” Peggy’s expression twitched uncomfortably at the memory, but Ana pressed on. “It’s not about… sleeping _with_ you, not at all, not for me. I stand by what we said about that. It’s more about sleeping _beside_ you like I have already. Do you understand?”

Peggy’s brow creased as she admitted, “I’m not sure I do.”

In fact, even Edwin looked at her a little strangely, so Ana swallowed, preparing to try again. She didn’t realize _how_ nervous the conversation truly made her until her thoughts came to her in her mother tongue instead of English. She shook her head as if to dislodge the “wrong” language from her mind.

“I don’t want to kiss you, but I’ll _always_ want to hug you. I’m not necessarily interested in… _touching_ you, but I’d very much like to be allowed to hold you when you need such a thing. I love you, but it’s in a way that has nothing to do with your body and everything to do with your… person and personality. Does _that_ make more sense?”

Peggy smiled, soft and uncertain. “Yes, I think I understand what you mean.”

“Does any of that ease your concerns?”

Peggy weaved her fingers together and stared at them in silence for a moment before saying slowly, “Yes. I know now – had seen already – that I was – that I had, that is – moved past Daniel Sousa. I think I understand what you’re both offering me in a general sense, and what you, Ana, are offering in particular.”

Edwin tilted his head to the side, all the better to catch Peggy’s eyes as he asked carefully, knowingly, “Then why, pray tell, are you still… nervous?”

 _Frightened_ , Ana thought to herself with a little frown. _She wasn’t just nervous; something about this_ frightened _Peggy Carter._

Peggy looked at Edwin, eyes searching his face and mouth slightly open as if she was trying to find the right words to say. Just as quickly, she looked away again, staying silent.

Edwin’s chest rose and fell in a noiseless sigh, and he tried again to catch Peggy’s eyes as he informed her, “No matter what you decide, you will not hurt or lose anyone, Miss Carter.”

With that remark, Ana saw what Edwin had instantly understood. Peggy was afraid because she wasn’t certain what Edwin was offering her in this. _Did she not want to presume too much? Did she_ really _not see how_ much _– how_ equally _– Edwin loved_ both of them _?_

Ana pressed her fingertips to her forehead, where she could feel the ghost of a headache beginning. She loved both of these people dearly, but _dear God_ they could be so _blind_ sometimes!

“Peggy,” she said firmly. “Love. Darling. _Sweetheart_.” She saw _something_ flicker across Edwin’s face at her tone, but he schooled it into neutrality before she could register whether he was pleased or not. “Do you remember the night you were stabbed through by the rebar?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Do you remember what exactly happened that evening?”

“After I was hurt?”

“Both before and after, I suppose. What did Edwin, specifically, do?”

Her husband arched his eyebrows at her, but Ana ignored his confusion in favor of watching the uncertainty play across Peggy’s face. She was unsure what exactly Ana knew about that night, and now she was trying to find a way to word her reply. “As I recall, he baked a soufflé before I was stabbed.”

Edwin choked back a noise, but Ana allowed the response to stand with a pinched little smile. “And is this type of ‘soufflé baking’ normal for him, or does it take a spectacular amount of loyalty and maybe even _love_ to incite such an action from someone?”

“It’s…” Peggy appeared genuinely confused. “It’s the actions of brothers in arms, Ana, that’s all. Besides, Chief Sousa’s the one who walked him through that, not I.”

That hadn’t been – wasn’t – Ana’s point there, but she moved on rather than hound on only one part of what she was trying to get Peggy to understand. She had a feeling Peggy _might_ have even been _trying_ to be a little obtuse at the moment. So she asked, “And what did he do when he saw that you’d been hurt?”

Ana noted that Edwin, still in her periphery, suddenly looked much less confused, and Ana realized that even though she’d really only been guessing the specifics of how Edwin had reacted, she’d guessed correctly.

Peggy’s brow creased as she tried to think back. “He found Chief Sousa trying to lift me from off the rod, and he helped him. I was fading in and out, but the chief couldn’t have carried me anywhere; Mr. Jarvis did.” Peggy’s gaze turned slowly to Edwin as she summarized, “You did everything necessary – and above and beyond – to help me.”

Edwin smiled at her, soft and adoring, and into the look passing between them, Ana gently asked Peggy, “Now why would he do such a thing?”


	22. Chapter 22

That had been Ana’s point, and Peggy understood it now, yet she still hesitated, looking like the words were stuck in her throat.

It was Edwin who replied, “Maybe because, like I’ve already said, I love you, enough to do things that are supposedly ‘above and beyond.’” He paused, and his tone was quieter and even slightly introspective when he said, “I think, with this… _nature_ of adoration, I may not know any other way to love.”

“So,” Peggy spoke slowly and tentatively, like she was afraid her words would turn into landmines and explode under her feet. “You’re saying, Mr. Jarvis, that you… feel about _me_ … as you do… your _wife_?”

 _And there_ , Ana thought triumphantly, _was someone besides herself giving voice to the thought!_

She had no issues whatsoever with that comparison – she thought it accurate in its own way, actually – but she realized that she had expected to see perhaps a moment’s hesitation from Edwin. Her remarks must’ve stirred more than just Peggy’s thoughts, though, because he answered only, “Yes, I believe I am.”

Peggy took a deep breath, straightening in her chair, and Ana _knew_ she saw the other woman glance towards the door – both she and Edwin stiffened accordingly during that moment – before she asked, “And just how… far would you – both – like to take those… feelings?”

“Well, firstly, we’d like to know what… if… how you feel about it all,” Edwin replied with a small smile that rapidly went from amused to very nearly anxious.

Peggy dropped her head into her hands, saying succinctly, “I think this isn’t allowed.”

“Why not?” Ana asked. “Technically speaking, at the time, Edwin’s relationship with me wasn’t even _legal_ when we met, but that didn’t stop ‘the course of true love’ then, and I don’t see why it should now.”

“’True love!’” Peggy parroted disbelievingly, blinking owlishly at her. “That’s a bit dramatic, isn’t it?”

“Maybe that remains to be seen,” Edwin suggested. “Not every time is love sudden and sharp and obvious like with Ana and I.”

“I thought that was an obvious fact,” Peggy shot back bluntly.

Edwin and Ana both cocked their heads to the side curiously, not sure what she meant. “How so?” Edwin inquired.

Peggy opened her mouth and looked between them, appearing even more confused than they were, yet still at a loss for words. She closed her mouth, then tried again, asking Edwin, “Do you remember the night you stitched up my knee? Told me I’d been Steve’s support, and that I needed support of my own?”

“Yes,” Edwin answered, inexplicably blushing at whatever memory was running through his head.

“It has nothing to do with _that_ bit of it,” Peggy said pertly. “It’s just that I realized some things that night. 1. You were probably right in what you said.”

A smirk hesitantly tilted a corner of Edwin’s mouth upward, and while Ana felt the conversation slipping away from her a bit, for now she was mostly content to sit back and watch the other two maneuver… whatever it was they were discussing.

“2. ...That was that night that I began to consider the idea that I might be able to – might, under the right circumstances, even _want_ to – move on from Steve.”

Edwin’s brow furrowed as he asked, “How did our conversation lead into that thought?”

Ana didn’t even have to know any details to smirk to herself as she looked at Peggy’s expression and happily thought, _Gotchya._

“Because of my third point.” Peggy looked at Ana then as she said, “I, apparently, have a type.”

“Which is?” Ana asked with a grin.

“Brave. Noble. A little reckless. Occasionally temperamental. Loyal.”

“To a fault.”

“M-hm,” Peggy agreed. “Like Steve once said Dr. Erskine told him: ‘a good soldier, but a great man.’”

“Blue eyes deep enough to swim in?” Ana suggested with a teasing smile.

Peggy burst out laughing, admitting, “That certainly never hurt anything.”

In that moment and that feeling of unexpectedly fierce comradery… that, Ana realized, was exactly and entirely what she wanted to have with Peggy Carter.

Hesitantly, as if he’d momentarily been sidelined in the conversation, Edwin asked, “And what am I supposed to glean from those remarks?”

“I believe she’s comparing you to Captain America, darling.”

“Actually,” Peggy’s laughter died down and sincerity filled her dark eyes. “I’m trying, Edwin, to tell you that I love you, too.”

* * *

Edwin nearly laughed at the sudden rush of relief as he felt, and beside him he was fairly certain he heart Ana mutter “at last” in Hungarian. After a moment of merely sitting in silence and absorbing everything that had been said and revealed, Edwin gathered enough courage to ask Peggy, “Where would you like to go from here, then?”

Peggy hummed, checking her wristwatch before answering flippantly, “Right this moment? To sleep.”

It was likely, Edwin thought, avoidance of giving a _real_ answer to his question, but after everything that _had_ been said already, he was willing to let it go for now. After all, she deserved the time to consider this all as he and Ana had.

“Very well, Peggy.” He stood from the couch and moved to put his budget papers away for the evening. Already at her side and feeling a bit daring, he bent down and kissed her cheek. “Good night, sweetheart.”

He reached out and Ana took his hand, but he saw at a glance that there was a question in her eyes. Given how she had spent the last few nights, she didn’t know where she ought to go tonight.

Addressing neither woman in particular, he announced, “I would like very much to sleep in my own bed tonight, I admit.”

“That’s fine,” Peggy agreed, nodding to them both as she stood to leave the room.

She was halfway out when Edwin said, as casually as he could manage, “You’re more than welcome there as well, if you’d like.”

Peggy froze for a beat mid-step, and looked over her shoulder to Ana with a question for the other woman in her eyes.

_She was asking for… permission, wasn’t she?_

Ana smiled back at her, an almost teasing glint in her eyes. Edwin could almost _feel_ the desire to tease shoot through his wife. Had the situation been less serious, he was certain she would’ve followed the impulse. As it was, they watched Peggy return Ana’s smile uncertainly, and then the three of them parted ways as she went to her room and they to theirs.

“What do you think she’ll do with your invitation?” Ana asked in a low voice, pulling out her nightgown.

Edwin shook his head ruefully as he sat on the edge of the bed and took off his shoes. “I’ve long learned not to count my chickens before they hatch with Peggy Carter. I don’t _know_ what she’ll do, but at some point I’d like to think she’ll wish to… end up here… to come to us, if phrasing it that way isn’t too dramatic.”

“Not at all,” Ana smiled fondly, understandingly. “I’d like that too.”

But, all the same, when both he and Ana were ready for bed and Peggy hadn’t yet appeared… it wasn’t wise to wait for someone who might not come at all, he decided. The duo climbed into the bed as if it were any other night, and Edwin tucked Ana’s head beneath his chin as she listened to his heartbeat. They were making a good show at going to sleep, but both of them knew that the other was wide awake.

Waiting.

Listening to the ticking of the clock.

The noise seemed to become so loud in his mind that he didn’t notice when the bedroom door opened. He didn’t notice anything changing until the bed dipped behind him. By some small miracle, he didn’t jump, and in the next moment thin, strong arms wound around him from behind, Peggy’s hands lying gently against Ana’s sides. He relaxed now that she was in the bed – now that she had chosen to come to them – and Ana instinctively grabbed the other woman’s hand.

“I’m here now,” Peggy breathed, loud and soft all at once in the darkness – saying so very much with so few words. “Goodnight, sweetheart,” she added, turning her face into the fabric of Edwin’s nightshirt. “Goodnight, love.”

And that was all that she said, but it was enough. It was an agreement to their proposition, and the marvelous shattering of every version of his life he’d ever allowed himself to dream of. In the softness of night, lying between Ana and Peggy, this new set of circumstances was nothing less than perfect.


End file.
